


Eidolon Cupitor

by broken_hearted_bard



Series: Harry Potter and the Ghost Seeker [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Eventual Relationships, Ghost Seekers, Harry Potter and the Ghost Seeker Book 1, Harry Sees Ghosts, Henry Peverell, Hufflepuff!Neville, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Out of Character for Some Characters, Powerful Harry, Slytherin Harry, Smart Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2016-04-15
Packaged: 2018-04-22 12:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 30,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4834667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_hearted_bard/pseuds/broken_hearted_bard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter sees ghosts, which isn't (by far) an ordinary branch of magick.<br/>Harry is special, or unique, in one other way as well, but he doesn't know it yet. Harry owns 2 of the Deathly Hallows.</p><p>This story is inspired by When the Wind Blows Through It by BonesOfBirdWings, which is a WIP (and seems to be abandoned). You should go read it: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1617053/chapters/3445502.  No harm intended, no stealing has been done either.</p><p>No pairings as of yet, we'll see what unfolds.</p><p>A/N: This story has the potential to go in Dark!Harry direction. So, if that's something that bothers you or makes you uncomfortable, I'd advise you tread carefully or not read at all.</p><p>A/N2: Heads-up....Harry won't have his canon wand. Neville will, though Harry is the BWL.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Second Letter

**Author's Note:**

> So, basically....Harry sees ghosts (talks to them, etc.) where other wizards/witches can't. Additionally, he sees ghosts in much the same way as a psychic or medium might (from the muggle point of view). These powers are aided by his possession of the Resurrection Stone, but he hasn't actually used the Stone.
> 
> This fiction assumes that Lord Voldemort was wearing the Gaunt ring when attacked the Potter's and that the stone fell out of it and into Harry's crib. As a baby, Harry was drawn to it, and so held onto it through the trip to the Dursleys. Since then, it has always been with him.
> 
> Headmaster Dumbledore took the ring (without touching it) when he arrived at the Potter home. It is not known whether he recognized it as a Horcrux, or what has/was been done with/to it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After sending a reply-letter to his Hogwarts letter (which he'd shoved under his cupboard door before going back into the kitchen), Harry receives a second letter from Professor McGonagall.  
> 

Harry gripped the chain around his neck and stared at the parchment in front of him. He was sitting in Mrs. Figg's back garden, at a table, under an umbrella. 

Mr. Figg, a kindly older ghost, hovered near Harry's shoulder, keeping lookout. "No one'll bother you, lad," Mr. Figg said. "I'm watchin'."

Harry smiled in the general direction of the ghost -- Mrs. Figg's dead husband -- and looked at the letter once more.

_Mr. Potter,_  
_Thank you very much for writing back in such a swift manner. Having a prospective student be totally unaware that they are, in fact, a wizard, is something we do deal with on a regular basis._  
_As such, let me aid you in getting your proper tools and supplies for your education at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._  
_Enclosed you will find a map that will lead you, from London proper, to The Leaky Cauldron - which is a pub that will gain you entrance into Diagon Alley._  
_You will need to go directly to Gringotts World Bank in order to obtain the funds for your school supplies. You will also find your vault-key enclosed._

_You have expressed concerns that your muggle guardians will not let you come to school, nor will they pay the tuition. You needn't worry about that, Mr. Potter._  
_Your mother and father, James and Lily Potter, paid for your full seven-year education when you were born. You are the only surviving heir of both the Potter and the Peverell lines._  
_What this means is that you are well provided for, and should not need anything -- nor anything from your guardians -- for the remainder of your schooling._  
_As far as getting to school is concerned, if your guardians really will not help you towards attending, there is a form of magical transportation that you can take to get to King's Cross Station on September the 1st._ _This form of transportation is called the Knight Bus, and can be summoned by standing on any street corner, anywhere in Britain, and sticking out your wand._ _According to my information, it will cost ten Sickles (one form of magical currency) to take the Knight Bus during the day and thirteen to take it at night._

 _One other note, Mr. Potter._ _In order to reach Diagon Alley, one must go into the Leaky Cauldron, head to the back, and go through the backdoor to the alley behind the pub._  
_When one has arrived there, you will face a brick wall. As you are a first-time student, and you haven't a wand as of yet, simply ask the wall to let you in on behalf of your being a muggle-raised, first-year student of Hogwarts._  
_The wall will open, and you will walk through. Asking the wall to let you in will only work this one time; afterwards, gaining entrance will require your wand._  
_Walking through the opening is the direct entrance to Diagon Alley. There are various shops to make your purchases._

_If you have any more questions, please let Mrs. Figg know. She is a member of our world and, as such, is very aware of how to contact me._

_Sincerely,_  
_Minerva McGonagall_ _Deputy Headmistress, Professor of Transfiguration, Head of Gryffindor House, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

Harry folded the letter up and slipped it into his overly-large pocket. "When will I go, do you think?" he asked Mr. Figg.

Mr. Figg smiled down at him before responding. "Tomorrow is your best bet, I daresay. The Dursleys will be out, will they not? You can sneak away right proper. I will miss you, Harry," he said.

"I'll be coming back, won't I?" Harry asked.

Mr. Figg sighed. "Only if you know no other way," he responded vaguely. He shrugged once, then blinked and faded away.

Harry headed back into the house for a spot of lunch and a bit of a nap. The Dursleys wouldn't return home until late and they hadn't wanted Harry to stay at the house alone, but, then again, they always sent him off to Mrs. Figg if they were going to be gone longer than an hour or two.

*** ***

The next morning, Harry rose early. He packed his meager belongings, including the ten pounds he'd stolen from his Aunt's purse, into the patched-up, beige knapsack that had once been Dudley's. When he was finished, he showered - quickly and quietly - and put on the very worst of the hand-me-down clothing he owned in order to do the mountain of chores he knew was coming.

Next, he made an elaborate breakfast for his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin. It was a kind of goodbye, going-away, breakfast -- though they wouldn't know it. He listened with half an ear to the prattling of David Jimms, the ghost of the young man who had owned the house before his relatives had purchased it, as he cooked.

As he was setting the platters of bacon, scones and eggs on the kitchen table, Aunt Petunia walked in. She scowled at the breakfast platters, but sat at the table anyway. He quickly got out the low-calorie fruit salad he'd made and a small carton of yogurt, which he set down in front of her.

"There you are, Aunt Petunia," he said politely.

She nodded at him, grabbed a bowl, served herself some fruit-salad and yogurt and then began to eat.

Vernon trudged in a few moments later. He looked around and then aimed a glare directly at Harry. "Where's my coffee, boy?" he snarled.

Harry blinked. He was tempted to say _it's right behind you on the warmer, on the counter, you great oaf,_ but he kept his thoughts to himself and gave a very small, polite smile. He fetched a cup and saucer, got the cream out of the refrigerator and handed it all to his uncle. As Vernon sat down and began serving himself large portions of bacon, eggs and scones -- the latter piled high with butter -- Harry poured him his first cup of the day.

When Dudley lumbered in, Harry fixed him a large plate of food and then began cleaning up the kitchen. He washed dishes, tidied up, then went to work on his chores. He knew he wouldn't get them all finished before the Dursleys left, but he wanted to leave as good of an impression as he felt he could. He vacuumed the living room, dusted the shelves and curtains, organized the pile of Dudley's toys by putting them in their proper bins and then made his way upstairs to the bedrooms.

He made the beds, dusted the furniture and swept the rooms. He carried loads of laundry down to the laundry-room, which was just off the kitchen, and began a wash load. He did the whites first. He checked the lines outside and checked the weather-report in the newspaper to make sure the wet clothes could be hung outside. Since it was to be a sunny day in mid-August, Harry made a mental note to line-dry the clothing then he went back into the kitchen.

He poured more coffee for Vernon, took away the dishes that were empty and then set about washing them. When he was finished, he served additional portions of breakfast to both Vernon and Dudley and then took the platters to the sink as well. By this time, Petunia was done and probably in her bedroom getting ready for the day, so Harry went looking for her -- as he did most mornings before the rest of the dishes were cleaned.

Harry knocked briefly on her door. "Aunt Petunia?" he asked timidly.

From her seat at her vanity-table, Petunia looked up. She rolled her eyes, gave a huffing noise and said, "Yes, boy?"

"I was wondering if there were specific chores you'd like done today. I've started the wash, seen to the rooms, tidied the living-area, and nearly finished the dishes," he explained.

Petunia nodded. "Of course, yes," she replied. "You weeded the garden yesterday, but today there should be some lovely flowers to harvest, as well as the rosemary and basil. See to that. The taxi is picking us up in just over an hour, so you'd better wash the car while we're gone. You can do both of those things after we're gone, but before you go to Mrs. Figg's. I don't want you in the house, though, boy, so you'll need to hand over your key. I'll give it to Mrs. Figg, that way she can monitor if there's anything you've left that you'll need."

Harry nodded, but remained silent. David talked incessantly in his ear about what unfortunate people the Dursleys were -- but Harry had learned to keep a straight face and to never, ever talk to his ghosts where the Dursley's might notice.

"I've made a list," Petunia added. She pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and gestured at him with it. "It details what I've just said, and adds a few more chores on. See that you finish them." Considering the size of the list, she paused before saying, "As long as Vernon and Dudley are done and no longer in the kitchen, you may have a breakfast plate consisting of egg and toast." She stared at him for another moment. "You are dismissed."

Harry raced back down the stairs and into the kitchen. He heard the telly on in the living room so he knew Vernon and Dudley were done. He picked up the rest of the dishes and took them to the sink before making his toast. There weren't any eggs left, so he ate three pieces of buttered toast instead. When he was finished, he cleaned the remaining dishes, wiped down the table and the kitchen counters and then started on the packed-lunch for his relatives' trip.

*** *** ***

The Dursleys left long before Harry was finished with his chores, and by the time he was done it was far too late to get to Diagon Alley today. Harry let himself into the house, against the rules, with the key his Aunt had forgotten to take from him and grabbed his knapsack. He opened the refrigerator and stared for a moment before deciding to sneak two bacon sandwiches. 

When he'd finished eating, he washed and dried the dishes, then made sure the house was tidy before he locked up.

He walked quickly to Mrs. Figg's and knocked on her door. 

"Where have you been, Harry? I've been looking out for you all day!" Mrs. Figg cried as she ushered him inside.

Harry gave a sheepish grin. "They left me chores to do and I wanted to finish them before I came over. I'm...." he looked over her shoulder at Mr. Figg, who hovered in the doorway.

Mrs. Figg looked behind her to see what Harry was looking at and frowned. "What is it, dear?" she asked him.

"Oh, nothing," Harry muttered. "Anyway. I'm in need of a shower and a change of clothes, but tomorrow...Mrs. Figg, I'm getting out of here."

Mrs. Figg smiled gently. "I've had some correspondence from Minerva," she said gently.

Harry lifted an eyebrow.

"Professor McGonagall," she explained.

"Oh! That's great....so, you understand?" Harry asked excitedly.

"Indeed I do, Harry. And I also understand they'd make it miserable for you, and so...I'll take you to the Leaky Cauldron myself, and leave you to get your things. You'll have to come back on your own, but Minerva said she explained about the Knight Bus already," Mrs. Figg said. "And, since we're now keeping confidences, you may call me Arabella."

"I'd be very grateful for the ride to the Leaky Cauldron, Arabella," Harry said formally. He wondered if he should tell her the rest of his plans, but then decided against it. To Harry's mind, adults just could not be trusted -- no matter how much he might want to trust them.

Arabella guided Harry upstairs, to the bedroom and bathroom he usually used when he stayed over and then left him alone. She had cats to cuddle and kneazles to feed.

Michael, as Mr. Figg had been known, drifted up towards Harry's bedroom to keep an eye on the young lad. He believed, wholeheartedly, that there were not enough people looking out for Harry and, even though he was a ghost, he was going to do his part to ensure that Harry survived into adulthood.

*******************************

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ignotus Peverell had a wife. The wife had a son.  
> Ignotus handed-down the invisibility cloak, before he died, to the son.  
> The son had a wife. The wife had a daughter.  
> And so, we end up with the last of the Peverell line being a daughter.  
> Iolanthe Antigone Peverell married Hardwin Linfred Potter (whose father was Linfred of Stinchcombe). They had one son, Charlus Peverell Potter.  
> Charlus Peverell Potter married Dorea Evelyn Black. They had one son, Henry Black Potter.  
> Henry married Cyne Marie Fleamont. They had one son, Fleamont Henry Potter.  
> Fleamont Potter married Euphemia Harper. They had one son, James Harper Potter.  
> James married Lily Evans (a muggleborn, daughter of Julie and Marcus Evans). They had one son, Harry James Potter.
> 
>  ** We will be using some of the J.K. Rowling established facts about the Potter bloodline, obviously.  
> ***Some first names and middle names have been made-up by me.  
> **** I began writing it before J.K. decided to tell us about the Potter lineage, and therefore it uses what is available of the new info, while making up the rest. 
> 
>  _Harry Potter_ is owned by J.K. Rowling and Co. No harm is intended, no money is being made. All creations inside what she created are my own. Any similarity between real or actual persons or events is accidental and not meant to step on any toes. J.K. owns it all, for the most part, I swear!
> 
> First Year: 2000-2001  
> Second Year: 2001-2002  
> Third Year: 2002-2003  
> Fourth Year: 2003-2004  
> Fifth Year: 2004-2005  
> Sixth Year: 2005-2006  
> Seventh Year: 2006-2007  
> University (Maybe): 2007-2011


	2. Diagon Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry gets his schools supplies and finds out something which makes his plan not necessary.
> 
>  
> 
> I've never been to the UK, so please excuse my artistic and really made-up use of Hertfordshire and London. I don't mean any disrespect, I just need a space I can use -- so I'm using it, and making it up besides.

Arabella pulled the car to a stop alongside the curb and looked at Harry. "It's just ahead, dear. I'd go in with you, but even though I can see the Leaky, I can't get into Diagon Alley -- I haven't a wand."

Harry nodded and grabbed his knapsack. "I'll be fine, Mrs. Figg," he replied.

"Arabella, dear," she responded. "Go on. It'll be great fun, you'll see. And remember, you'll have to catch the Knight Bus back."

Harry gave her a gentle smile, then got out of the car. A ghost, dressed in early-nineteenth century garb, followed behind him.

"You can do this, right, Felix?" Harry murmured as he approached the door to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Of course, young Master," Felix replied. "You haven't anything to worry about. I've been a ghost for over a century. It will be child's play to me, just you wait."

Harry nodded. "After, then. You'll occupy yourself until it's time?"

"Quite so, young sir," Felix said.

Harry entered the dimly-lit pub and kept walking without looking around. He went straight to the back, through the door, to the alley. He stared at the brick wall and, after a moment, said, "You'll let me through, won't you? I'm a first-time student at Hogwarts, I haven't a wand yet, and I'm without a parent."

The wall shimmered for a moment, then pulled itself open in the center. Harry smiled and stepped through, onto the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley.

*** *** ***

After presenting his key to the Goblin at the desk, the Head Goblin nodded. "That seems to be in order, Mr. Potter," he said.

"Good, great," Harry replied.

"Griphook!" the Head Goblin called.

When Griphook came running up to Harry, the Head Goblin nodded. "I'll have Griphook take you down to your vault, and after there is some paperwork to be seen to. We have, in our possession, a number of items your parents wished you to have before you started school," he explained.

Harry nodded, then followed Griphook down to the cart, and to his vault. The piles of gold galleons, silver sickles and gold knuts astounded him. He filled a bag with what he thought he'd need, and then Griphook took him back -- on a wild cart ride -- to the Head Goblin.

The Head Goblin, who finally introduced himself as Brenak, led Harry into a small room with a seating area. As Harry sat, Brenak began to speak.

"As the only living heir of both the Peverell and Potter family lines," Brenak said, "you have inherited much." He handed Harry a small package and a slim letter. "Those are the two items your parents wished you to get before leaving for Hogwarts. Additionally, I have this scroll to give you." Brenak handed Harry a tightly rolled and bound scroll. "It details your holdings here at Gringotts and when you will have access to them. I will leave you in this room for several minutes so that you may open both the package and the letter. The scroll, however, must go with you -- it will require much time for you to review everything."

After Brenak left him alone, Harry put the scroll in his bag and opened the package. There were two large books inside, one of which which looked to Harry much like a picture album. He shooked his head and, feeling a bit confused, opened the letter.

 _Harry,_  
_If you're reading this, then we did not succeed in surviving the war and for that, I am sorry._  
_You are a small, bright, funny, one-year-old boy as I write this._ _The package contains a book of pictures, both muggle and wizard alike, containing photographs of you as a baby, and several of your mother and I, as well as older pictures of your grandparents and other family members (though they are all deceased now)._ _The second item is my copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard -- which my mother read to me as a child._ _Your mother and I have tried to provide well for you in our absence, and that is really what this letter is about._ _I'm afraid, if we've died, that you may be left with your mother's horrid muggle sister, Petunia, who hates magick, as she was jealous of it as a child._ _You do have a godfather, and someone to follow up in his footsteps should he not make it out of the war alive. Should you need to, you should find Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. They are longtime friends of mine, and I trust them with everything I have and everything I am._ _It is important for you to know that there are contingencies in place for you, Harry. Vaults and properties that will keep you well-off until you are old and gray. Sirius should, by all rights, be in charge of these accounts until you turn seventeen, but if he has fallen, control will revert to the Goblins - and they have specific instructions, made possible by wills and law._ _We love you. We always did, we always will._ _If you have need of protection or solace, or just a place to live, there are several places to choose from, but you cannot, and should not, go to Godric's Hollow if that is where we perished. I'm cautioning against that, because I have no way of knowing why the wards wouldn't have held, if that is the case. The blood wards on the other properties will keep you safe, Harry, as you're the only one that can gain access. Find the ward-anchor, and drip a drop of your blood onto it. This will let you in, and also refresh the wards._ _There isn't much time, and there isn't much more to say._ _Be safe, Harry. And be well._  
_Your loving Father,_  
_James_

Harry stared at the letter. He wished it said more, that he had more detail and more...explanations. How had he ended up with Petunia and Vernon if he had a Godfather out there somewhere? What kinds of wards had failed his parents in Godric's Hollow? There was only so much safe and well he could be, honestly, after growing up with those magic-hating muggles.

He sighed. He was very glad he'd asked Arabella to explain certain things to him, or he still might not know that 'muggle' was the wizard-world term for 'non-magic person.' He was grateful for the connection to his father, but really, it was a rather spindly letter. More of a note, really. And it explained almost nothing. Harry shoved it in his bag, along with the two books and took out the scroll.

Harry unrolled it carefully and began searching for the houses and properties section. The house in Godric's Hollow was listed as _in ill repair_ , but Harry noted that there were other properties, around the UK and in a couple of other spots besides. There was a cottage in France, a small house in Hertfordshire, a house in a village called Hogsmeade, a home in Ireland - as well as a few parcels of land throughout the countryside.

He was a bit sad that he wouldn't need Felix after all, but...he would need a book on blood-wards if he was going to live in any of the homes left to him. As Harry considered, he rolled the scroll back up and stuck it in his bag. He had a lot of work to do and limited time to do it in.

*** *** ***

Back out in Diagon Alley, Harry headed first to _Ollivanders_ , for his wand.

Felix appeared at his side just as Harry was about to open _Ollivanders_ front door. "I'm so sorry, Felix," he whispered. "But I won't be needing you after all. Something very interesting has happened, and now I only need to decide where to go. If you want to come along, as company, that's okay."

Felix bowed, but then shook his head. "I will go back to Alice and Michael, if that is alright with you. I will check in with you, wherever you end up, from time to time, young sir."

At Harry's nod, Felix disappeared. Harry entered the shop and looked around.

"Well, well," Mr. Ollivander said. "I've been expecting you, Mr. Potter. It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands."

Harry resisted the urge to groan. The problem was, he hadn't known his parents. So, he imagined they'd been very good and very interesting people...but he just didn't _know_. He hoped he'd be judged on his own merits, and not on his parents'. He stepped forward. "I do need a wand," he said timidly.

Mr. Ollivander grinned in a slightly predatory fashion and stepped further into the room. "Come, come, Mr. Potter. Time to find a wand that picks you as its wizard!" he exclaimed.

After trying more than a dozen wands, Mr. Ollivander stepped back and rested his fingertips on his chin.

"A difficult customer. So rare, they are," he said in a voice just above a whisper. "I wonder...."

"You wonder what, sir?" Harry asked.

"I have some stock that I purchased long-ago from Mykew Gregorovitch, an excellent wand-maker, famous even, before he closed his business," Mr. Ollivander explained. "Highly unusual wands, with very interesting wand-cores. I will be right back. It is possible you will be destined for something as unique as those."

Harry waited a few minutes before Mr. Ollivander came back with a dozen wand-boxes in his arms.

"First up," he said, "Five and a half inches, Hawthorn, with a core of Banshee hair." He handed it to Harry.

Harry waved the wand and, like the dozen or so before, absolutely nothing happened.

"No, no..." Mr. Ollivander said as he snatched the wand back and put it back in its box. "Try this....seven and a half inches, yew, with Veela hair as its core."

This time, when Harry tired the wand, a wind picked up to flutter at his hair. But, Mr. Ollivander took it back and said, "No, not that one. Close though!" before handing Harry another wand.

"Vine wood, eight inches, Thestral-hair core," Mr. Ollivander explained.

The moment Harry took up the wand, a vase on the desk behind them exploded.

"Oh, no, definitely not!" Mr. Ollivander cried. "But, at least we're seeing some result!" He shoved another wand at Harry. "Here we have...ten inches, made of Willow, with Coral as the core."

Harry grabbed the wand and all the lights in the room winked on and off. Mr. Ollivander grabbed it back. "No, not quite!" he exclaimed and handed Harry another wand. "Four inches, quite short, Cherry wood, with....very odd, amethyst stone as its core."

Harry took it and, when sparks shot out at all directions, Mr. Ollivander yanked it back.

"Oh, well..again, some response...." Mr. Ollivander muttered. He handed Harry another wand. "Nine inches, Cypress wood, Bloodstone as its core."

Harry took it and felt a zing go up his arm. It was the first wand that had made him feel anything, but still, it didn't feel right. He shook his head and handed it back.

Mr. Ollivander's face fell. "No? I had hoped. Really?" he asked. Harry nodded. "Ah well. How about this one," Mr. Ollivander said as he handed Harry the next wand in the line. "Very interesting, very interesting indeed. Black Onyx at its tip, Rosewood wand, six inches, not at all bendy, and its core...well, Mr. Potter, it's core is Citrine."

The moment Harry grasped the wand everything in the room and every nerve ending inside his body simply glowed.

"Perfect," Mr. Ollivander said. "Most interesting customer yet....that will be eleven galleons."

Harry handed over the money and also purchased a wand-polishing kit and a wand-holster. 

*** ***

With his wand confidently strapped to his left-hip (for ease-of-use), Harry continued on his trek to get the rest of his supplies. He bought his trunk first. With four compartments, one for books, and charmed feather-light, Harry was extremely pleased with it and started with filling it with all his other school things. 

He bought a selection of quills from _Amanuensis Quills_ , as well as a slim volume on writing with a quill and the care/cleaning of quills. He purchased a cauldron (standard size 2, pewter) and a cleaning/care guide from _Potage's Cauldron Shop_. He got his scales, phials and bottles and a small telescope from _Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment_. He bought different kinds of ink and a large selection of parchment paper from _Scribbulus Writing Instruments_. He purchased all his school books from _Flourish and Blotts_ , but also bought several books he felt he needed from _Obscurus Books_. He visited _Whizz Hard Books_ for a copy of The Continuing Tales of Beedle the Bard and a book called Raised in the Muggle World and You Don't Know A Thing, to help him adapt to the wizarding world. 

Harry stopped for lunch at _Rosa Lee Teabag_ , where he had scones, tea and little sandwiches.

Afterwards, he went into _Slug & Jiggers Apothecary_ for all his potions supplies -- and instead of picking out a First Year Box, he got scoops and small bags of everything on the potions-supply list after careful inspection of each ingredient. 

He purchased three sets of his school uniform (robes, vests, trousers, ties, socks, white button-down, long-sleeved shirts) at _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_. He drew the line there, however, and headed to _Twilfitt and Tatting's_ for fitted, everyday clothes, his winter-cloak, two pointed, black hats, underpants, shoes and some simple accessories. Finally, he bought his dragon-hide gloves from a specialized vendor.

Harry rechecked the list Professor McGonagall had sent, then carefully repacked his trunk. He'd purchased such a good trunk, with so many compartments, that he still had room in case he needed anything else. He only had one thing left to do before he left, and that, Harry thought, was changing galleons into pounds. He marched back towards Gringotts.

*** *** ***

Supplies all purchased, well-fed, galleons exchanged, and ready for a good long nap, Harry set out about finding the Potters' small home in Hertfordshire. The scroll had given forth its address once Harry had tapped it with his wand. Standing on a street corner, outside the Leaky Cauldron, Harry stuck his wand out into the air.

Moments later, a garish purple, triple-decker bus pulled up in front of him.

"My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor for this evening. Where to, lad?" Stan asked as he looked down at Harry.

Harry smiled. "How far outside of London Proper do you go?" he asked.

"We travel anywhere you might need to go, for the stranded witch or wizard," Stan said in a sing-song voice.

Harry nodded and gave the general address. "Hertfordshire, then. Potters Bar, to Salisbury Circle." The irony of the Potter family having a small home in Potters Bar was not lost on Harry.

"13 sickles, for standard night fare," Stan replied.

Harry paid, and got in. After Stan had helped him store his trunk, which he'd also put his knapsack in, Harry took the bed he was directed to and sat down.

*** ***

It wasn't long before the Knight Bus dropped him, and his trunk, off on Salisbury Circle. 

Harry double-checked the exact address on the scroll -- the scroll was blood-warded, he'd come to find out, so that only a Potter could read it -- and dragged his trunk, which had wheels, down the lane. 

As he approached the small, blue-shuttered house, he noticed a shimmer of magick (nothing a muggle would detect, he was sure, but, he was a wizard after all). He set his trunk down, opened it and took out the book on blood-wards that he'd purchased. He flipped to the relevant chapter -- _Locating the Anchor_ \-- and reread it.

He knew he was skirting the Decree for Underaged Magic, but he was also aware that what he was doing wasn't _really_ magic. It wasn't casting nor creating, it was just...using a drop of his blood on the tip of his wand to sense out the anchor.

It took several minutes for his blood and the anchor to sense each other. Finally, just beneath a mailbox which read _Lievantte J. Pevepot_ , Harry spied a much brighter glow of magick. He pricked his finger again and squeezed a drop, or two, of blood onto the area which glowed brightest.

Unfortunately, Harry wasn't prepared for the blast of magick that slammed into him as the blood-wards for the house layered over him and, as he stumbled inside the wrought-iron gate, he passed out.

*********************************

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry's school books: (first set are canon, last ones are ones I made up)
> 
> The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk  
> A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot  
> Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling  
> A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch  
> One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore  
> Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger  
> Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander  
> The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble  
> Potion Opuscule by Arsenius Jigger
> 
> Discovering Our Stars: A Guide to Astronomy by Peregrine Eleazar  
> Wizarding Culture (Volume One) by Garrett Winters  
> On Writing and Literature (Volume One) by Bronte Spiers  
> A Study in Mathematics (Volume One) by Herbert Knell  
> The Geographical World by Sidney Marie Bennett  
> Muggle Politics by Anthony Steadwell  
> Hypothesis: An Introduction to Muggle Science by Carmichael Wellers  
> The Pop Culture Phenomenon by Nandi Berry  
> A View Through: Thoughts on Art by Marcus Cause


	3. The Rest of Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of Harry's summer passes by, then he takes the train to Hogwarts.
> 
> A/N - for those that wonder -- Harry didn't choose to buy nor bring a pet, but Hedwig will make an appearance as a Potter Estate Owl. :)  
> A/N 2 - Harry will not be referenced as Harry Potter by those at Hogwarts, which will be explained in this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken some liberties with clothing -- allowing students to mix up the types of student robes they wear, and also allowing them to wear muggle clothing or wizard clothing under their student robes. Harry will, for the time being, wear his student uniform under his student robes.
> 
> A/N3 - I've made up some wizarding schools, but some of them are canon. Just ask, if you've got questions. :)

"Goodness gracious, boy, we thought you'd wake hours ago," a gravelly voice said as Harry opened his eyes.

He blinked twice, then rubbed his eyes. A ghost, with dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes, hovered near the very comfortable bed Harry laid in.

"What?" he croaked. Harry cleared his throat and tried again. "Where am I?"

"Master Potter is in the English country home of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell," a small voice squeaked.

Harry looked down and to his left. A small, pale-green creature, with too-wide, bright blue eyes, wearing a little blue skirt, shirt and hat, peered up at Harry.

"What are you?" Harry whispered.

"Well, that's just a bit rude for a grandson of mine," the ghost said. "Mayna is a House-Elf. One of the few employed by the Peverell-Potter estate."

Harry struggled into a sitting position. "Is that how I got inside, in bed, in my pajamas?" he asked.

"Of course, Master Potter," Mayna replied. "I is finding you passed out in your front yard, little sir. And so, as is the duty of a House-Elf, I magicked you inside and saw to it that you be rested."

Harry yawned hugely. "Thank you," he replied.

Mayna gave an enthusiastic, and pleased, squeak. "You is being welcome, young sir," she responded. 

"And you are?" Harry asked the ghost.

"Your grandfather, I'd wager," the ghost replied. "Fleamont Henry Potter. The missus will be along shortly. We've stayed these many years, not moving on to the after life, in order to help sort you out, dear Harold."

"Er," Harry replied. "My name isn't Harold, sir. It's just....Harry. I'm just Harry."

"Of course you are," came a matronly voice. The ghost of an older woman floated through the door. A tray floated behind her. She had long, black hair and dark-brown eyes. She smiled gently at him, before flicking her wrist. The tray settled over Harry's lap. "Eat up, ducky. When you're done, we can explain who we are, and help you transition into being part of the magical world."

*** *** ***

The rest of Harry's summer, two and a half weeks, passed quickly after that. The two ghosts, his grandparents (Fleamont Henry Potter and Euphemia Evaleen Harper), and Mayna, the House-Elf, made quick work of helping Harry adapt to being part of the magical world.

Once he was well again and, according to Euphemia, properly fed-up, Harry explored the neighborhood he'd suddenly found himself a part of. He shopped at the local Tesco, and the local bakery, and introduced himself around as Henry Evans Pevepot. He spent countless hours in the library. He poured over his school books and took copious notes, learned how to properly and respectfully use and clean a quill and got many lessons from his grandfather about proper Pureblood etiquette. 

Since Peverell Cottage was secured by blood-magick, as well as a few other ancient charms, Harry was perfectly safe in doing magick inside its borders, but his grandmother kept a careful, watchful eye on him while teaching him only very useful spells.

Mayna cleaned up after him and prepared all his meals -- even when he asked her not to do so much of either. Harry understood the value of hard work and didn't want to become a lazy, spoiled, duffer. But, as the ghosts pointed out, it was Mayna's job to do all sorts of things around the house and for Harry. Mayna also let Harry do the grocery shopping, as well as chores in his own room -- which, Euphemia pointed out, no respectable House-Elf worth her salt would have let him do!

It was the best two weeks Harry had ever had in his entire life, but all too soon it was time to head to King's Cross Station to begin his journey to Hogwarts.

*** *** ***

"You have everything?" Euphemia asked quietly as she hovered in the foyer. 

Dressed in well-pressed, student uniform clothing and a many-pocketed, sleeveless, black student-robe Harry stood near the front door. His knapsack was over one shoulder and his trunk (shrunk to the size of a deck of cards) was in his pocket. "Yes, grandmother," he replied softly.

"Good. Will you be coming back for Yule?" she asked.

Harry smiled. "I'm not sure. I don't have any idea what Hogwarts is like, you understand?"

At her nod, Harry continued. "I'll send an owl to Mayna, for you and grandfather, once a week. I promise I'll be careful."

Fleamont glided forward. "Have our instructions been clear, Harry?" he asked a little anxiously.

"Yes, grandfather. I know this has all been very....odd," Harry said, "but I really wish you wouldn't worry. I'll be fine. And careful."

Euphemia laid her hands gently on Harry's shoulders. He didn't mind the cold that swept through his body at her touch - it was oddly soothing. He could feel her fingers as they tapped the tops of his shoulders, but almost like they were a kind of fabric. She kissed the top of his head, which caused the back of his neck to give a slight shudder, then she glided back.

Fleamont nodded at him solemnly.

Mayna scurried in from the kitchen and handed him a small whistle. "You is just to whistle with this, young Master, if you is need me while you is at Hogwarts!" she exclaimed.

Harry put the whistle in his pocket, petted Mayna's ears gently, then left the cottage. Outside, well away from the house that had so quickly become his home, he raised his wand to flag down the Knight Bus.

*** *** ***

Harry leaned casually on the wall between platforms nine and ten and prepared to slide through it. His grandparents had explained, multiple times, how the platform worked, when the train would leave, and what he'd be expected to know around the other students. With a quiet whoosh and a bit of unsteadiness on his part, Harry fell through the platform.

He tugged his bangs down over his makeup-and charm-masked, lightning-bolt shaped scar again, then smoothed his clothes. He'd very nearly worn a hat, tipped to one side, to cover the scar but he'd felt it would actually be too conspicuous. He felt it would be far too obvious he was trying to hide something if he'd worn a hat smooshed down over his scar. Instead, though it was still quite long in the back, he'd had Mayna cut his hair in a way that made certain he had side-swept bangs. House-Elf magick had ensured that the haircut had stuck, instead of his hair growing back overnight as had occurred each and every time his Aunt Petunia had given him haircuts.

Harry headed to the train. He climbed on and walked towards the back of the car, to the luggage compartment. He removed his trunk from his pocket and placed it on the ground. He grabbed his wand from its holster on his hip and tapped it gently to the trunk and whispered, "Finite Incantatem." There was a slight rush of magick as his trunk resized itself to its normal size. Harry left it, with its very careful labelling of Henry S. Peverell, amongst the other trunks, and made his way to a passenger car.

With one hand on his knapsack, Harry opened the door to the third compartment with his other hand and settled down onto one of the cushy benches. From his bag, he withdrew _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger and began to read.

*** *** ***

Minerva McGonagall paced the small space in front of the Headmaster's desk. She held the long Student-Scroll in one hand and the Sorting Hat in the other.

"This is not my fault, Albus," she said sternly. "I exchanged correspondence with the boy. I was very clear. Mrs. Figg took him to the Leaky Cauldron with express instructions that he was to catch the Knight Bus back to Privet Drive."

"It is very possible that he also exchanged letters with other schools," Albus said quietly as he rubbed his bearded chin with the forefinger and thumb of his left hand. "It is my understanding that James had a home somewhere in France too, and that Harry was offered a spot at _Beauxbatons_ as well. You say that his name simply fell off the list?"

Minerva made a strangled sound, which sounded quite like the growl of a cat. "Yes. Several days ago, I can't say how long ago, Albus. Surely we could just reach out to the other magical schools to find which school he decided to go to instead?"

"I'm afraid, since neither of us are his legal guardians, we cannot. We do not have the legal authority to discover which school, if any, he decided to attend instead of Hogwarts. And, I have little pull with the international community. The most that could be done is sending a few members of the old guard to the schools in question and finding out, through review of the student body," Albus replied. He leaned back in his chair. 

"What about his guardians? Couldn't they help us?" Minerva asked.

"I'm afraid not, Professor. They are not fond of magic, at all, and are pleased, elated, even, that Harry left and did not return. They were very....strict, harsh even, in their instructions that we not bother them ever again. So determined to be left alone by the magical world, they were, they moved away from Privet Drive, leaving no forwarding address, only yesterday," Albus responded.

"That's ghastly," Minerva muttered.

"This is not a good position to be in, Minerva. Harry Potter is needed in the Wizarding world, in Britain," Albus stated worriedly.

"I understand that, Albus. But....you well know that no one from...the old guard, as it were, has time to insinuate themselves amongst the rest of the magical schools throughout Europe," she replied.

"Yes, yes," Albus said vaguely. "It is of no matter. We will find him when the time is right, when we are able to. Until such a time, let us simply keep an eye out for him amongst the other schools. He should be quite the wizard, it shouldn't be too difficult to draw him out, eventually."

"Alright, Albus," Minerva replied. "I need to go. I have some prep-work to do before Hagrid brings the First-Years to me." Before she turned to leave, she looked at Albus one more time. "It should at least be possible to find out where else he was offered a position?"

Albus smiled gently. "I am aware he was offered a position at The Durmstrang Institute, Beauxbatons, and The Evergreen Druidic School. If he was offered a position at any of the United States schools, or any other countries...I would have no way of knowing that, Minerva," he replied.

She nodded. "Well. I haven't any other suggestions." She sighed. "I'm off. I still have much to do before the new crop of students arrives."

Albus let her go without another word, then moved across his office to remove the memory of the day to his pensieve.

*** *** ***

Harry played idly with the little diamond-shaped locket on the chain around his neck. Inside the locket, a diamond-shaped stone nestled. Harry'd had the stone ever since he was little and he associated it, for some reason, with his parents - James and Lily. He played with the locket, or worried at it with his fingers, whenever his mind wandered. He'd put the stone in a locket a few years earlier so as to not lose it.

The compartment door slid open.

"May I sit here?" came a soft, shy voice. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry looked up and nodded at the short, slightly rumpled, plump boy with brown hair that was much too long for his cherub face. "Yes, of course," he replied. "I am Henry, Henry Peverell. And you are?"

"Neville Longbottom, but you may call me Neville," the boy replied self-consciously as he sat across from Harry. "Peverell, you said? As your surname?"

At Harry's nod, Neville continued. "I'd thought they'd all died out." Neville blushed. "But, clearly...not." He frowned. "Are you related to the Potters, then?"

Before Harry could answer, the door slid open again and another boy entered. He had dusky, olive-coloured skin and dark hair and eyes. He gave a slight smirk, then a slight bow.

"Theodore Nott," he introduced himself. "May I sit with you?"

Harry smiled, then bowed his head briefly in the way he'd been taught. "Of course," he replied as he gestured to the seat next to him.

"Oh, our potions text. I'm looking quite forward to that class," Nott said.

"Yes, it's very interesting. I look forward to it as well. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Nott. My name is Henry Peverell," Harry said.

Nott nodded. "If you get into Slytherin, you may call me Theo. Otherwise..." he trailed off at Harry's nod. "Peverell, you said?"

Harry suppressed a laugh.

"Yes, Peverell," he replied. He glanced at Neville. "Yes, I am...related to the Potters, that is." Sticking as close to the truth as possible is what his grandfather had advised, and that was exactly what Harry had planned. 

"Cousins, I imagine," Nott supplied.

Neville beamed. "I hope the Sorting isn't too difficult. I'm half afraid I won't get sorted anywhere. My grandmother, and my Uncle, were afraid up until a few months ago, that I was a Squib."

Nott raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. It took a terrifying accident to get my magick to produce itself. But, all's well that ends well," Neville replied as he slid his wand out from its harness on his arm. "Eleven inches, Holly, Phoenix-feather core. Couldn't be prouder, my whole family."

Before either Harry or Nott could respond, the compartment door opened again. A bushy-haired girl poked her head in. "Have any of you seen a cat?" she asked.

Nott shook his head.

Neville squeaked, "No."

Harry smiled confidently and said, "No, I'm sorry. I haven't. Who should we let know if we find one?"

"Oh. I apologize." She held out her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger, you can call me Hermione, though."

"Muggle-born?" Nott asked not unkindly.

She bristled. "Yes, what of it?" she asked acidly.

Nott held up his hands. "Not a thing, Granger. It was just a question."

"I've found, quite recently, that nothing about being a muggleborn is just a question here," Hermione replied.

Harry nodded, then spoke to deter what he felt might be an argument. "I'm Henry Peverell and I acknowledge what you're saying. Should we find a cat, however, we'll let you know. Okay?"

She nodded and escaped back into the corridor, leaving the compartment door open.

"A bit...boorish, wasn't she?" Nott asked.

Harry blinked. "On first meeting, I'd say it's likely she just wasn't sure how to act -- you know, what sorts of things are deemed...proper."

Neville nodded, but before he could speak, three boys entered the compartment through the open door.

"Theodore!" a slim, well-dressed boy with icy-gray eyes and nearly platinum blonde hair exclaimed. "Parkinson, Zabini and I have been looking for you! Come, join our compartment."

"I'm fine here, thank you, Draco," Nott replied. He gestured to the other two in the compartment. "This is Longbottom, and this is Peverell."

"My, my," Draco said. "Well, at least you've had the good sense to befriend other Purebloods."

Harry grimaced. "I was actually raised by muggles," he said softly.

"That is nearly as bad as being born into that sort of family, Peverell!" Draco exclaimed.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes and waited as the boy held his hand out. 

"Draco Malfoy," Draco said. "Pleased to meet you. This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle."

Harry grasped Malfoy's hand. "Henry Peverell," he replied. He inclined his head to include Crabbe and Goyle in the introduction.

Draco let go of Harry's hand and looked at Neville. "Longbottom, good to see you again," he said.

Malfoy and Nott spent a few minutes catching up and then Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle left.

They spent the rest of the train ride exchanging stories about their summers (though Harry's were very abbreviated) and then the three boys played a game of exploding snap. When the train came to a halt, Harry made sure he had everything before he performed a pressing charm on his robes and a freshening charm on the inside of his mouth.

Harry swung his knapsack over his shoulder and left the train.

********************************************

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOGWARTS -- since the Hogwarts stuff starts next chapter, here's a heads-up:
> 
> **ADDED CLASSES**  
>  _an (M) by a class listing means it's mandatory for all students unless opted out of by a parent or guardian_
> 
>  
> 
> Introduction to Healing Magicks (5th year and up) [Taught by Madam Poppy Pomfrey and Professor Hellwell]  
> Wizard/Witch Culture (all years) [Taught by Lord Marbison] (M)  
> Wandless and Nonverbal Magicks (5th years and up) [Taught by Professor Aviar]  
> Wandlore (4th year and up) [Taught by Professor Ollivander - son of Wand shop owner]  
> The Art of Spell Creation (7th years only) [Taught by Professor Frederick]  
> Advanced Healing Magic (6th & 7th years only - prereq. intro) [Taught by Healers Roe and Kenders]
> 
> I have also replaced the catch-all canon version of muggle studies with:  
> Muggle Skills Course A (writing, literature, geography) (all years) [Taught by Professor Lewis] (M)  
> Muggle Skills Course B (math, science, world government/politics) (all years) [Taught by Professor Johanneson] (M)  
> Muggle Skills Course C (computers, pop culture, art) (all years) [Taught by Professor May] (M)
> 
>  
> 
> Art (second-years and up) [Professor Charity Burbage]  
> Wizarding Law and Government (second-years and up) [Professor Blakely]  
> Rites and Rituals (a study in the Old Religion) (second-years and up) [Professor Xandorra Zabini]  
> (1 second year elective course is mandatory; you may take two if you pass all your exams from first year with an A or better)  
> (If you pass all your first-year exams with an O, you may take all three second-year elective courses)
> 
>  **CANON COURSES**  
>  Astronomy [Professor Aurora Sinistra]  
> Charms [Professor Filius Flitwick]  
> Defence Against the Dark Arts [Various]  
> Herbology [Professor Pomona Sprout]  
> History of Magic [Professor Binns]  
> Potions [Professor Severus Snape, Professor Slughorn]  
> Transfiguration [Professor Minerva McGonagall]
> 
> Flying (first years only) [Madam Hooch]  
> Magical Theory (first years only) [Professor Lipwell] (I've made this professor up as I couldn't find them in canon)  
> Apparition (Sixth year, those of age only) [Ministry Instructor]
> 
> Electives (third years and up):  
> Study of Ancient Runes [Professor Bathsheda Babbling]  
> Arithmancy [Professor Septima Vector]  
> Care of Magical Creatures [Professor Rubeus Hagrid, Professor Grubbly-Plank]  
> Divination [Professor Sybill Trelawney]  
> Alchemy (years 6 and 7) [Professor Severus Snape, Professor Albus Dumbledore]  
> Ancient Studies [Professor Dalila Ebo] (I've made this professor up as I couldn't find them in canon)  
> Music (Muggle and Magical) [Professor Charity Burbage]


	4. The Sorting and The Headmaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry/Henry gets sorted.
> 
> This chapter switches perspectives a tiny bit between what I am establishing as the 4 main characters -- as in, the core group these books will encompass.
> 
> Half -way, or slightly more, through the chapter Harry will be referred to as Henry from here on out, excepting when he is thinking directly about himself.
> 
> **a lot of Peverell line stuff has been made up by me, due to the needs of the story.
> 
> *** exposition heavy, sorry about that. longish chapter.
> 
>  
> 
> (I've worked out all the names to the entire family history, if anyone's interested. lol.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS: the END NOTE has spoilers for the chapter!!!! Don't read it unless you want to be spoiled.

In the antechamber, Harry tugged his long, black hair back through the band that had held it back. He smoothed his fingertips over his face, following the lines of the hollows in his cheeks.

With the longer hair, potion-and-charm fixed eyes (which meant he was no longer wearing glasses), and the hollowed cheeks that belied the malnutrition of his first ten years, Harry no longer looked like James Potter. Instead, he had more resemblance to Lily and even further resemblance to Euphemia, his grandmother on his father's side.

His grandmother and grandfather had helped him with the spell that changed his name on the Student Scroll, while Mayna had helped gather the ingredients for it. It had been an old spell, and had required the elements of ritual -- a protected circle of salt, a blessing, candles, prayer to the gods, and the invoking of fire and air. The spell wouldn't legally change his name from Harry to Henry, which was good because he still needed to be Harry Potter for the various vaults and titles at Gringotts, but it would provide him some measure of distance from the famous _Harry Potter_ he'd read about in numerous books.

Not only had the spell changed his name on both the Student Scroll and his Hogwarts letter, but it had also established an authentic family-tree for Henry Peverell. According to his family history, which the spell knitted him into, Henry was a descendant of a brother of Iolanthe Peverell, whose name, for some unknown reason, had been stricken from the family-tree, but not the records. The fact that Iolanthe had really had a brother, according to family records, was beneficial to Harry only in that his life was well-documented in the family archives -- which were located in the basement of the Peverell cottage, but no where else. 

Wizard Aelius Romero Peverell married witch Agrippa Decima Cyprian. They had two daughters (Demeter Aleen and Lucretia Cybil Peverell) and one son. Both daughters were magical, but the son was a squib. The son, Romero Sergus Peverell, married a witch, Johanna Valentina Drake and they had a daughter and a son. The son, Claudius Alan Peverell, married a squib by the name of Floriana Madeleine Braxton, and they had a son. The son, Iolaus Marcus Peverell married a witch, Horatia Lucia Ganeus. They had a daughter and a son. The son, a wizard named Otho Henry Peverell, married witch Nerva Maleficent Plinus. The daughter, Sophie Emery Peverell, married witch Juliette Theodosia Lash -- they had no children -- and both died in the war.

Since it was well-documented that Nerva had three pregnancies -- one miscarriage and one stillborn -- the spell Harry had cast made them [Otho and Nerva] Henry's parents. The last pregnancy went undocumented by the magical medical community and it is only through the family records that the son they had is mentioned to have died at the age of three -- whose name, as it so happened, was Henry. 

The family records documented each line of Ignotus Peverell's family, as well as the lines of both Antioch and Cadmus, and since Harry had spent the two and a half weeks at Peverell cottage learning about the family history he was caught up on all of it. He knew that Thomas Marvolo Riddle, Amaranthe Marie Lewis, Harry James Potter and Henry Sergus Peverell were the very last [known] children of the Peverell line. No one knew Henry was deceased, therefore no one could dispute it. There were rumours from years past that Otho and Nerva had raised their son in secret, and there was speculation that they had fled to the States during the war with Lord Voldemort. It wouldn't be too surprising to the wizarding world for their son to accept a place at Hogwarts -- especially after the death of his parents.

Otho and Nerva had died shortly after their actual son's death, but for Harry this meant that he could tell some truths about his past -- that he'd been raised by distant relatives and had not grown up in the magical world. Harry had, of course, looked up the other still-alive branches of the Peverell family tree and had not found anything that could disprove the existence of Henry Peverell. Not even the mysterious, French branch (Valentina Emily Peverell and Jon Francis Beauvedeer) of the Peverell family would be able to dispute Henry's existence. Very little was known about Valentina and Jon Francis, besides the fact that they'd had six children. It was possible all six had been magical, and had attended Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, but Harry couldn't be sure because their records ended with their names and birth dates [though death dates were included for Valentina, Jon Frances, one son (Jacob Romero), and one daughter (Calla Mari)]. Harry doubted any of them were still alive and since their entries in the family records had words like 'estranged' and 'disowned' written next to them, he doubted they'd kept up with what the family was doing or the births and deaths.

Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly, then followed Professor McGonagall, and the rest of the first-years, into the Great Hall.

*** ***

Hermione wrung her hands nervously as she waited for her name to be called. She'd never been so afraid in her life. What if the hat didn't place her anywhere? What if it'd been a mistake all along and she wasn't really a witch? What if the magic she'd performed on the train had just been a fluke? Would they make her leave? Yell at her? For the love of Merlin...would there be some form of punishment?

She took a deep breath. No, no. She had to calm down. She'd read all the books and done some preliminary work even. She was a witch. She'd get sorted just like everyone else.

Hermione had been so busy worrying that she hadn't heard the first several students get sorted. When she realized her error, she looked straight up at Professor McGonagall.

When Professor McGonagall blinked, cleared her throat and said, with a huff, "Granger, Hermione," Hermione realized that it wasn't the first time the professor had called her name. Muttering under her breath, things like 'okay,' and 'it'll be fine,' and 'alright, just relax,' Hermione made her way up to the stool.

As the Sorting Hat was placed on her head, a voice bloomed in her mind.

 _Well, well. You're quite tricky, aren't you?_ the hat asked.

_I certainly don't mean to be,_ Hermione replied loudly in her mind.

_No need to shout, a whisper will do...it's all laid out, here, in your head, after all,_ came the hat's reply.

Hermione nodded. _I'd just like to be placed somewhere I'll best fit, if you don't mind me saying. I want to fit in. I don't want to...stand out._

_You have a lot of qualities a lot of the houses admire, Miss Granger,_ the hat said. _A Cunningness born out of intelligence. Brave enough to take a letter on faith. A desire to prove yourself. A warring desire to fit in and be just like the rest -- of the magical world, in any case. And so smart! You are so widely read! And you just...soak up knowledge like a sponge. You could, realistically, belong to any of the houses, my dear..._ the hat explained.

_I'm a muggleborn,_ Hermione thought. _Surely I'd not fit well into Slytherin? I don't really fancy going there anyway, sir._

_Yes, yes I can see that....nearly a disgust with the idea of being a Slytherin. That will never do. Hufflepuff would serve you well, with loyalty being their favored trait but...you'd desperately stick out, there. That leaves Gryffindor and Ravenclaw...._ the hat seemed to think for a few moments and memories of the train ride flitted to the front of Hermione's mind. _That Weasley fellow was a right berk to you on the train, wasn't he, dear? And I have a long memory and am rarely ever wrong. So I know which way that will go. Ah, well. You really could have done well....no, no....so, yes..._

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the hat shouted out, "RAVENCLAW!" 

Hermione smiled, gave the hat back and ran to the Ravenclaw table. She was greeted and given a seat, then she turned to watch the rest of the sorting unfold.

*** *** 

Neville's heart was pounding uncomfortably. If he didn't know better, he'd be very afraid he was going to pass out, or boot all over the Great Hall, or worse. But, he'd had these feelings before and they were only ever accompanied by a feeling of lightheadedness, and nothing worse. No, indeed. He'd be fine, but he'd be better if he could just go ahead and get sorted now, please and thank you.

The Granger girl seemed to take forever up there, whereas other people only took seconds to have their fate decided by the large-brimmed, old, talking (er, and singing too) hat.

He watched as 'Jones, Megan' was sorted into Hufflepuff and knew he'd be coming up quite soon. He knew himself well enough to know he'd not be fit for either Ravenclaw or Slytherin, so his only real choices were Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. He did not think he had any chance at being deemed brave enough for the Lions, but he also felt he'd be bullied something awful if he did land there. No, no, his best bet, and the most comfortable of places for him, was Hufflepuff.

When Su Li went to Ravenclaw, he stepped forward. As Professor McGonagall called "Longbottom, Neville," he walked up and sat on the stool.

As soon as the hat was placed on his head, he nodded and thought: _Hello, sir. I think I don't have all that many options, you see, so if you could be quick about placing me, I'd appreciate it. I'm feeling rather ill._

The hat chuckled in his head. _Well, Mr. Longbottom, you are right in that there are only two houses which might suit you. Are you certain you've decided against Gryffindor? I could make quite a case for placing you there!_

Neville shook his head. _I think my best chances for survival are with Hufflepuff_ he explained.

 _That's very close to a Slytherin view, my lad_ the hat replied.

Neville sighed. _Please, sir._

 _Better be...._ "HUFFLEPUFF!" the hat cried.

Overjoyed, and very relieved, Neville whipped the hat off his head and practically threw it at Professor McGonagall as he raced to the Hufflepuff table.

*** ***

Good lord, Longbottom was a Hufflepuff? Surely, at the best anyways, Longbottom should have ended up in Ravenclaw and at the worst, in Gryffindor. Maybe the hat made mistakes? Theo thought to himself as he watched the sorting with a bored expression on his face.

It wasn't that he was really bored, it was that showing any real interest was against his upbringing as a Pureblood. He clapped along with the others, as was polite, for each and every sorting, but maintained a somewhat sleepy, somewhat bored expression throughout.

As Macmillan (Hufflepuff), the MacDougal twins (Slytherin), Malfoy (Slytherin) and Moon (Gryffindor) were sorted, Theo waited for his name to be called. When it was, 'Nott, Theodore,' shuffled up the steps and sat on the stool. The sorting hat nearly covered his eyes as it was placed on his head.

 _Right, right..._ the hat said. _Great mind, truly clever. Whole lot of your family, on your father's side, were in Slytherin._

 _Yes, that's obvious._ Theo thought unkindly.

The hat snorted. _Your mother, though, that's a different matter. She didn't go here....I remember every student I've ever sorted. But, her mother, well, she was a Ravenclaw. And your mother's father was a Hufflepuff. So, bit of a mixed family history thrown in with your quite keen mind. Still..._

 _I am perfectly fine with whichever house you decide on, provided it is not Gryffindor,_ Theo replied.

The hat seemed to nod. _Well, no matter....you'd have been swell in with the eagles....sure as I can say..._ "SLYTHERIN!" the hat cried.

Theo resisted a sigh of relief as he handed the hat to McGonagall and walked softly to the Slytherin table.

As he sat down, he faced those left to be sorted. He was interested in the outcome of only one of those that were left.

*** ***

Well, that was the lot of them. Neville, Nott and Malfoy and even that Granger girl -- the only people he'd met on the train -- had all been sorted and now it was Harry's turn to wait and wonder and worry.

"Patil, Padma," went to Ravenclaw. "Patil, Parvati," went to Gryffindor. "Parkinson, Pansy," went to Slytherin. Finally, Professor McGonagall stepped forward and called, "Peverell, Henry."

Henry gave a very slight smile, then a very slight bow and walked up to sit on the stool. As the sorting hat was placed on his head, he imagined his cupboard and put the majority of his thoughts and memories inside it -- he then shut his eyes, tightly.

 _What a controlled mind you have, Mr. Potter,_ the hat said kindly. 

Henry gave an inaudible gasp. 

_You need not worry. Your secret is safe with me. I never divulge what I learn in a student's head. Not even when I was afraid of the darkness -- for I have spoken to many a student with an alarming past and dark thoughts and blackest magick. But you, you need not worry, lad. Your skills are far beyond your year. My, my, what gifts you have! Ghost Seeker, Snake Talker, and even some skill in Occlumency! You could be great in Ravenclaw!_ the hat explained.

 _Are you bound, by magick, from giving away the secrets of the students you sort?_ Henry inquired.

 _Very smart, indeed! Yes. The founders understood I couldn't be trusted to sort a student properly if I was then going to blab about everything I'd uncovered. You have to afford me some small measure of trust, you see, for me to accurately sort you. Now....you're brave enough for Gryffindor, of course. And loyal enough, to those you love, for Hufflepuff. But, both of those houses will be extremely prejudiced about your gifts and very fearful of them too, so you won't fit in as well as you might want to,_ the hat said.

 _So that leaves Ravenclaw and Slytherin, right?_ Henry asked.

 _Yes, yes...._ The hat considered for a few moments, making odd comments in Henry's mind like 'oh, but...' and 'how interesting,' before it opened the mouth in its brim and yelled for the whole crowd to hear, "SLYTHERIN!"

Henry nodded, gave the hat to Professor McGonagall and went to sit next to Theo, who clapped him gently on the back.

The sorting went by quickly after that. Both Zacharias Smith and Blaise Zabini were the last students to be sorted into Slytherin. Afterwards, Headmaster Dumbledore made some start-of-term announcements and then the feast commenced.

*** *** ***

After the feast was over, and Henry was careful to only take what he could eat, the Prefects began leading the First Years to the dormitories. Gemma Farley and Simon Dedworth led the Slytherin first-years to the staircase that led to the dungeons.

On their way, Henry was stopped by someone tapping his shoulder. He looked up, into the face of a tall, thin, haggard-looking man with long, black hair, a large nose and piercing black eyes.

"Mr. Peverell, my name is Professor Snape. I am your Head of House. Presently, I need to accompany you to the Headmaster's office. He wishes to speak with you," Professor Snape said icily.

Henry nodded and followed Professor Snape out of the Great Hall, up a short flight of steps and to a Phoenix-shaped Gargoyle.

"Cream Mints," Professor Snape said to the Gargoyle. The Gargoyle blinked, turned and revealed a set of stairs. Henry followed Professor Snape up the stairs to an open office door.

He took a deep breath and, again, locked some of his more turbulent emotions in the imagining of his cupboard under the stairs in his head. He entered the round room and was led to sit in front of a very ornate desk. He stared for a minute at the bright red, gold and orange bird cleaning itself on the perch behind the desk before he looked at the Headmaster. On instinct, he avoided looking the man directly in the eyes.

"Mr. Peverell," the Headmaster began, "I'm sorry to drag you away from the other first year students, but...there is a matter that needs to be cleared up. I was nearly certain, you see, that the direct Peverell line had died out."

Henry frowned. "My family history seems of great importance to many of the people I have met so far, Headmaster," he replied.

"May I call you Henry?" Headmaster Dumbledore asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know you. We are not familiar, nor family, therefore it wouldn't be very appropriate of me to allow your use of my first name," Henry replied somewhat icily. He'd been carefully educated in what was appropriate between witches and wizards, and he knew Headmaster Dumbledore was a renowned wizard, respected and Pureblood -- but age and respect didn't dictate the use of his first name.

Headmaster Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise. "I gather, then, that you have been brought up within very proper and Pureblood standards?" he asked.

Henry nodded.

"Who were you raised with? What sort of lengths did your parents go to conceal you?" the Headmaster asked.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't understand the question. My parents died when I was very young. As far as I'm aware, there were no...'great lengths' to conceal me," Henry replied.

"Would you consent to the Bloodline spell, Mr. Peverell?" Headmaster Dumbledore asked.

"I cannot legally consent to the Bloodline spell without the express permission of my guardians, sir," Henry responded. "I wouldn't be comfortable giving out drops of my blood, in any case, Headmaster." He cocked his head to the left slightly and took a moment to consider. "I will, however, if it is so important to you, consent to the Lineage Spell."

"I will allow the lineage spell," Professor Snape said softly. "As a member of my house, it would fall to me to approve of such a spell to be used on one particular member of my house. I am not certain what the issue is here, Headmaster, but it does feel....alarming that you would question the birth and parentage of only one student here at Hogwarts."

Headmaster Dumbledore nodded, then sat in his desk chair. "The issue is, Severus, that I had it on fairly good authority that there were no direct Peverells left. As in, no one with their last name. It is quite possible that I am wrong, and I would like to believe the veracity of this student's claim...but I just cannot," he explained.

"I see," Professor Snape said coldly. "Well, if Mr. Peverell consents, than I will stand as witness."

"No, no. I will stand as witness. I should like you to perform the spell," Headmaster Dumbledore replied.

Professor Snape inclined his head, gave the Headmaster an odd look, then nodded. "Of course, Headmaster," he responded.

Henry stood and held his right arm out to Headmaster Dumbledore. The Headmaster grasped Henry's right arm with his left, then Professor Snape stood and directed his wand in a circular motion around their clasped arms.

" _Genere reveliae_ ," Professor Snape intoned. 

A swirl of green-tinged magic enveloped the Headmaster and Henry's clasped arms, near their elbows, and Henry gasped.

"You may let go now, Mr. Peverell," Professor Snape advised.

Henry stepped back.

Headmaster Dumbledore leaned against his desk for a moment, then said, "Undo your cufflink and push up the sleeve of your shirt. Your lineage should be revealed on your arm."

Henry did as he was told, then stared at the inky green lettering on the inside of his forearm. "Will it be...permanent?" he asked softly.

"Of course not, Mr. Peverell," Professor Snape answered.

Headmaster Dumbledore tapped his wand to Henry's arm and, using some nonverbal spell, transferred the writing to a piece of parchment. "Additionally, do you have your Hogwarts letter?" he asked Henry.

"No, I've left it at home. Did you want me send for it?" Henry asked a little angrily. "I'm sorry, Headmaster, but this is beyond absurd. I am who I say I am, not to mention the fact that no other student had to go through this."

Headmaster Dumbledore studied the parchment. "It seems you are, indeed, Henry Peverell," he replied. "Well. I'm sorry for the inconvenience, young Henry."

Henry crossed his arms and adopted a not-pleased expression.

"Professor Snape will lead you to your common room, and I hope any further interactions we have will be...far more pleasant," the Headmaster said. 

Headmaster Dumbledore showed the parchment to Professor Snape. "Quite an interesting heritage, really. An unknown branch of the family, based from a relatively unknown brother..." he trailed off. "You both may go."

Professor Snape glanced at the parchment once before gesturing to Henry to follow him and leaving the office -- with Henry in tow.

Headmaster Dumbledore sat back, stroked his beard for a few moments, then continued to contemplate the parchment. At the bottom, Henry's guardians were listed as a Felix and Alice Haydens.

*********************************

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILERS FOR THE SORTING!
> 
> The sorting goes very much like the books, with a few....exceptions.
> 
>  
> 
> Gryffindor:  
> Lavender Brown*, Tracey Davis, Seamus Finnigan, Pike Moon, Parvati Patil, Sally-Anne Perks, Emma Stewartson, Dean Thomas, Ronald Weasley*.  
> Hufflepuff:  
> Hannah Abbott*, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Wayne Hopkins, Megan Jones, Ernie Macmillan*, Neville Longbottom*, Lisa Turpin.  
> Ravenclaw:  
> Terry Boot, Mandy Brocklehurst, Michael Corner, Stephen Cornfoot*, Kevin Entwhistle, Hermione Granger, Anthony Goldstein, Su Li, Padma Patil.  
> Slytherin:  
> Vincent Crabbe*, Millicent Bulstrode*, Daphne Greengrass*, Gregory Goyle*, Morag MacDougal*, Morrison MacDougal*, Draco Malfoy*, Theo Nott*, Pansy Parkinson*, Henry Peverell*, Zacharias Smith*, Blaise Zabini*.
> 
> *denotes Pureblood status.


	5. September and October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Harry spends September and October.
> 
> No dialogue. Short chapter, just to get us started again.

There must have been some kind of enchantment or ward to keep ghosts out of the dormitory, because they never seemed to bother him there. No, the safest and quietest place for Henry to do his studying, classwork, reading and other activities -- including limited socializing with his housemates -- was in the dormitory. The first week of classes went by quickly and were fascinating at that.

In Magical Theory they learned about the two types of magic -- blood magic and granted magic. Blood magic was magic passed down by the bloodline, while granted magic was magic granted to a child in a non-magical family. They learned that these two types of magic worked differently, yes, but one was not better than the other. Professor Lipwell was kind, but firm and was adamant that no student was any more worthy of magic than another. 

His class list was a bit of a juggling act as far as homework was concerned, but Henry felt intellectually stimulated by his courses and wasn't afraid of homework. He spent hours in the Slytherin common room finishing his assignments and reading up on the next lesson.

In Herbology they learned about the five major elements of plants and plant material -- benign, useful, poisonous, deadly, and unknown. 

When Henry wasn't studying, doing homework, attending classes, or taking his meals in the kitchen (much to the displeasure of his Head of House), he was wandering the castle, finding the spots where ghosts (unknown to the other students) hung out. It would have been a lonely existence if not for the many ghosts that were pleased to interact with him. He avoided the ghosts that scared him -- the ones that were bruised, scarred, hurt and often had some kind of psychopathy. He also avoided the other members of Slytherin house, but he knew he couldn't continue to do so.

He didn't fit in there. He didn't really feel like he fit in at Hogwarts. It had been pointed out to him on many occasions, by Draco and Blaise and Pansy, that his wand was odd, his use of magic absurd, and his attention to detail during class and homework was downright spooky. He'd been teased about being not a Slytherin and about the locket he wore, among other things, and he'd just about had enough. He wished, not for the first time, that the hat had put him in Ravenclaw -- where he was certain he would have fit in.

History of Magic was a dead bore, but that was mainly because Professor Binns droned on in a monotone about various creature wars. Potions wasn't the nightmare Henry had assumed it would be, since they were always paired up with the Gryffindors, but that was mostly because it was a subject Henry was good at. It was so much like cooking, that he had almost no trouble getting his potions to turn out correctly.

Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts were a bit difficult for him, because his magick seemed to work differently than the other students. His wand was a bit of a struggle with new spells -- which made sense, he supposed, but it was made all the more complicated by the fact that he seemed able to do nonverbal, wandless magick through sheer will and visualization. He didn't know what to do about it, or who to confide in though, so he'd learned over the past two months to simply accommodate, or pretend, for the differences. He waved his wand around like he was supposed to, and kept up with the work but it was only outside of class that he practised mastering the spells his way -- without his wand.

He had no trouble with Wizard Culture, Muggle Studies, Transfiguration (which was about intent more than it was about wandwork), or Astronomy. When flying lessons had rolled around during their second week of classes, Henry had been the only student not able to mount a broom. It had been a shock, because of Harry's family history, and a big disappointment. Late at night, in an unused classroom, when he couldn't sleep, he was still trying to get a school broom to obey his commands.

Regardless of his shutting everyone out, Theodore still sat with him in every class and, when they had classes with the Hufflepuff students, Neville sat near him as well. They kept trying to get his attention and to be his friends, but Henry didn't know how to deal with it or how to allow it. Every moment he spent with them he was lying about who he was and even about the magick he was capable of doing. What sort of friendship could be based on such a lie?

He liked the castle, the work, the classes, his teachers, but he missed the home he'd had during the last bits of the summer. He missed Euphemia and Fleamont and Mayna. 

As October neared its close, and he became more withdrawn, he wondered why he'd ever gotten on the train at all. He wasn't sad, but he wasn't happy. He was fulfilled, when he considered his classes and all there was to learn, but he was lonely -- even with his chats with ghosts. Unbeknownst to Henry, however, his withdrawal from the world was getting noticed, and by someone he'd least expect.

*******

TBC


	6. A Mentor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry gets a mentor.
> 
> Short chapter.

"Do you think, Mr. Peverell, that I teach Astronomy because I am not good at other magicks, or have very little magical skill?" Professor Aurora Sinistra asked as she sat down next to him in the Hogwarts kitchens.

Startled, Henry bobbled the goblet he'd been lifting to his mouth. He watched, wordlessly, as the cup righted itself and the spilled juice froze in midair, then quickly vanished. He stared at Professor Sinistra and shook his head. "Professor, ma'am...how did you do that?" he asked.

Professor Sinistra sighed slightly. "How about you introduce me to your friends, and I will tell you how it is I did that bit of magick," she said.

Henry's eyes widened. "What friends?" he asked.

With a tiny bit of laughter, Professor Sinistra gestured to the two ghosts Henry had been having dinner with. "I haven't yet met these two fine, young men," she explained.

"I'm not sure I understand, Professor," Henry said softly as he avoided looking in the ghosts direction.

"No?" Professor Sinistra asked. "I was nearly certain you could see ghosts as well. I'm terribly sorry, if I've mistaken it."

Henry sighed, then gestured to his two companions. "This is Waldo Penble and Franklin Mell," he said at last. He looked over and up into Professor Sinistra's eyes. "How did you know?"

"As you get older," she explained, "it will be much easier for you to spot a fellow Ghost Seeker when you see one. There are tell-tale signs. Occasionally, you seemed as though you were talking to yourself, but your head would be tilted slightly up. You have been very cautious, very careful, but...you cannot hide everything. There is another Henry, I think you know, in the Astronomy tower. He talks to me, as he talks to you. Sometimes, you'd repeat something he just said. Things like that. Then, you began to withdraw."

"How long have you been able to see ghosts, Professor?" Henry asked.

"Always," came Professor Sinistra's reply.

"And why...why can't everyone see all the ghosts that I....er, that we can?" came Henry's next question.

Professor Sinistra nodded. "There is a very big difference, Mr. Peverell, between ghosts that choose to stay behind, instead of crossing over, and ghosts that cannot cross over at all -- ones that are not given the option."

"Okay, so...how does it work, exactly?" Henry asked.

Professor Sinistra smiled kindly. "There is so much you need to know, so much that I will need to teach you. I think, though, that the most important part needs to come first. You are young, Mr. Peverell, and just learning how to use and work your magick. I think you've found your magick works differently, and that it was nearly impossible to be matched with a wand. Is this correct?"

"Yes!" Henry exclaimed. "Sometimes my wand works, and my magick works through it, but other times...other times it's like....things happen on their own or like....I can _will_ the spell or incantation to work! What's going on? Why am I not....normal?"

"You are a Ghost Seeker. In layman's terms...a Medium," Professor Sinistra said. "Channelling the power of the beyond, of the hereafter, to see ghosts, and speak with them, work with them and help them -- all the while, they will help you -- forever alters a wizard's or witches magick."

Henry frowned. "Alright. But...why? Or...how?"

"Your magical core is strong, but your gift is stronger still. Your power comes from both your bloodline and the gift given to you either by accident or birth. I cannot tell you why this gift was given to you, only that it was, and it being part of you forever changes the way your magick works. You do not have wild magick, and you do not just have birth-right or bloodline magick. Instead, you have a unique combination of...for lack of a better term, death magick and bloodline magick," Professor Sinistra explained.

"I don't...I still don't understand," Henry said anxiously.

Professor Sinistra sighed, then nodded. "It is difficult, in the beginning, to grasp some of the concepts. Your magick comes, in part, from the beyond. As such, the magick you wield will not wield easily through a wand. You will find an aptitude for both non-verbal and wandless magick. You will find an aptitude with many things that live in the dark. Additionally, you will discover an ability in necromancy -- though I do not, under any circumstances, suggest going in that direction. It is magick that is yours, but it doesn't just come from you, it comes from the cosmos, the dead world around you, and the life after."

"Are there books or materials? All this...it's overwhelming...it doesn't seem to make sense," Henry said quietly.

From her pocket, Professor Sinistra produced two shrunken books. She placed them on the kitchen counter and unshrunk them with a wave of her hand. "Start with these. When you've read them, come find me. I will explain all that I can, and take you under my wing -- so to speak. You'll need guidance, Mr. Peverell. The best guidance is another Ghost Seeker, like myself."

Henry nodded.

Professor Sinistra rose from the seat she'd taken and turned to leave. "Mr. Peverell?" she asked.

Henry looked up. "Yeah?"

"I understand your need, your desire, to alienate yourself. To withdraw. To go without friends and comrades. It's a temptation we all feel, especially when we do have friends -- the ghostly world draws us in. While we are meant to help them, to befriend them, to learn about them, and learn from them, to fulfill some need they have...we cannot live on the ghostly plain. We cannot dwell with the dead. We must step into the light, and live with those that are alive and living. Make friends, Mr. Peverell. Shore up the damage you have done to your friendships now, before it is too late. Love is vital, and essential to life, and we must take it whilst we are amongst the living, regardless of our duties to the underworld," Professor Sinistra said.

Henry felt his eyes fill, but was grateful the tears didn't spill over. He nodded. "I...I'll try," he said.

Professor Sinistra peered at Henry quite thoroughly for a moment, then sighed. "You have another question," she stated.

In a small voice, Henry asked, "Why do some ghosts cross over even if they have the chance to stay behind? Even if it seems like...like their death wouldn't have given them a chance to cross over?"

"Do you mean your parents?" 

Henry nodded.

"Sometimes, even a tragic death is meant. Sometimes, death comes for those we love in a way that can never be understood," Professor Sinistra said softly. "Death waits for no one, and sometimes, though it is sad and difficult to deal with, a tragic death which feels like a waste, or like an injustice...is exactly what was meant to happen. It was the death that fate always had in store. I'm sorry to tell you this, and with you being so young. But, sometimes...ghosts move beyond the tragedy because it was, quite simply, their time."

"You'll...be around...if I need to talk about this stuff?" Henry asked.

"Yes, of course," Professor Sinistra replied. "I will mentor you in this art, this craft, for as long as you like. You may ask me any question, in regards to this path, and I will answer. You may come to me, about anything at all and I will strive to be there for you. I can't say it'll be an easy path. It is often...heartbreaking. But, it is worth it. And it is special. You're special, Henry."

When Professor Sinistra left the kitchen, Henry sat for several moments longer, absorbing what she'd said. He needed to begin as he meant to go on, he decided. He swept the two books into his bookbag and went in search of Theo, Neville and Hermione. He had apologies to make, and damage to repair.

**********

TBC


	7. Catching Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry's (Harry) Yuletide Holidays and his relationships with Theo, Neville and Hermione.
> 
> Replaces Christmas with Yule, because it makes no sense that the wizarding world, by and large, would celebrate Christmas. I have messed with the Yule traditions, and timeline, a bit to better fit my imagining of it, including the research that I have done.
> 
> Note: As of this chapter, there should only be 5-6 chapters left in Year One.

Henry managed to repair the damage to his relationships like Professor Sinistra had said, and he understood her words were more command than suggestion, but he still didn't understand why. He liked Theo, Neville and Hermione fine. They were good friends, and two of the three were quite studious while Neville was extremely loyal. It was lovely hanging out with them and talking about classes or the theory behind what they were learning.

Overall, though, Henry much preferred the company of his ghosts.

Theo thought he was odd and had said as much on more than one occasion. Hermione considered him fascinating and asked him questions upon questions that he just couldn't answer. Neville, rather predictably, was more than a little afraid of Henry's ability to speak to ghosts that the rest of them couldn't see. While his mentor hadn't told him to tell the truth, Henry hadn't been comfortable keeping it a secret like he did so many other things.

It didn't mean they weren't his friends -- their reactions. Just that they couldn't understand what magick was like for him, and he accepted that. He wasn't really friends with anyone else in his house -- Blaise had reached out, and Henry had acquiesced to a study partner for Potions out of the deal. But, everyone else pretty much left him alone. Outside of his little group, and his ghosts, he was still fairly isolated. And he liked it that way, thank you very much.

Theo asked about the necklace he wore; Henry pretended not to hear it. Hermione asked about the ghosts he saw and how it worked; Henry tried to answer her questions as quietly and diplomatically as possible. Neville asked about his parents, his home life, and things like that; Henry came up with creative ways to avoid answering any one question too directly.

It wasn't that he didn't want to belong, it was that he already did. But, he belonged to a much different world than the one around the rest of the students and teachers at Hogwarts (aside from Professor Sinistra, of course).

When the sign-up sheet to stay at the castle over the Yule holiday came, Henry didn't sign it. He missed his grandparents, and Mayna and wanted to spend a more traditional Yule at their home.

***

"Do your guardians celebrate a traditional yule, then, Henry?" Hermione asked as she sat across from him on the train.

Henry nodded. "Yes, I imagine you celebrate Christmas, is that correct?"

Theo gave a slight scowl when Hermione nodded.

"There's nothing wrong with celebrating Christmas, Theodore," Hermione admonished. "My parents are muggles, and that's what muggles celebrate."

"But, not all muggles, right?" Neville asked. "I mean, there are those that practice more pagan religions and keep closer to our...erm...to Magickal customs."

"True," Theo replied as he crossed his arms over his chest. "But they haven't any real magick."

"No, of course not," Neville mumbled.

"Well, anyway," Hermione said brightly. "I'm glad to be going home for a few weeks. I'm a bit burned out, and it'll give me a chance to recuperate."

"Relax," Henry supplied. "Yes, I look forward to the long holiday."

"Are there many ghosts where you live, Henry?" Neville asked. His voice trembled slightly. 

For a brief moment, Henry considered telling his friends the truth. But, he knew by now that Hermione would go straight to the Headmaster and both Neville and Theo would feel betrayed. Neville would come around, eventually. Theo never would. Henry brushed some imagined dirt off of his knees to give himself a few more moments to respond.

"Yes," he replied finally. "In fact, a couple of ghosts from the Potter line live at our home."

"How is that possible?" Hermione asked.

"Well, my guardians and I live in one of the Peverell homes that I am to inherit when I turn seventeen," Henry explained. "And some of the Potter family, way back when, lived there at one time as they are also Peverell descendants," Henry explained.

"Why didn't they move on...you know...to the afterlife?" Hermione asked, awe coloured her voice.

Henry shrugged.

Theo pressed his fingers immediately to Henry's shoulders. "No, no," he said. "We do not shrug."

Henry laughed a little and then nodded. Theo had been trying to teach him these little pure-blood idiosyncrasies for ages. But, since Henry hadn't grown up with pure-blood wizards and witches, it wasn't easy to teach him out of his long-held habits. Still, Theo tried -- and everytime Theo tried, a fuzzy warmth bloomed in Henry's stomach. Theo cared about him.

"My point is, Hermione, as I have told you before...I don't know why certain ghosts move on and others don't," Henry said.

Hermione nodded. "Do you think they stayed around intending to help Harry Potter at some point?" she asked.

Henry resisted the urge to shrug.

"Come now, Granger. He doesn't know. He was simply telling you that there are ghosts where he lives, as Neville had asked," Theo responded.

"It is sad that you didn't grow up with your parents," Neville said. "But, I imagine your guardians are good people, right?"

Henry smiled and refrained from mentioning that, technically, neither had Neville. "Of course they are, Neville, as I've said before."

Neville's cheeks and ears went a little pink and then he nodded. "Look," he said, "the train is stopping. We must be there."

"Have a good holiday, everyone!" Hermione cried as she grabbed her bag and rushed off the train. Neville was soon to follow her, and then it was just Theo and Henry left in the compartment.

"Will your Yule gifts make it through the wards?" Theo asked as he and Henry exited the train.

Henry shook his head. "Oh, no. We've a post-box set up at the Diagon Alley Owl Post. Mayna goes to get the post each morning," he explained.

Theo nodded and then looked around the crowded platform. He smiled gently and gave an abbreviated wave to someone some distance away. "That is my...ride, as it were, home, Henry. I will see you Seventh, January," he said just before he walked away.

Henry secured his trunk, and because they were still in the magickal world he shrunk it and stuck it in his pocket, and then he sat on a bench to wait. Once the majority of the people at Platform 9 and 3/4 had left, he walked through the Platform and out to the street. He flagged down the Knight Bus, paid his fare, and sat still, and quiet, for the ride to Potters Bar.

***

Fleamont and Euphemia were very happy to see him and even had a surprise waiting. Felix, Alice and Mr. Figg were visiting. As ghosts, they could haunt anyone so long as they knew the person's name. Concentrating hard on the name would whisk them to that person -- regardless of where the person was.

"Now, young Master," Mayna said gently. "Off to bed. It's going to be a busy Yule."

Harry, for he would always be Harry here, yawned and headed up to his room. The house was warm, and brilliantly lit with candles for the Yule holidays. He had holiday homework to do, but it could wait until tomorrow -- he was tired, and the day had been very long -- and there were days left before Yule to do his homework. The Holidays had started on Sixteenth December and would go until he headed back to Hogwarts on the Seventh January.

*** *** ***

Culminating in a Dionysian festival on Sixth, January the Yuletide season was full of special rites, rituals, songs, gifts and feasts.

Harry received a gift a day until the end of Yule, on Second January. There was one gift each from Theo, Neville, Hermione and Professor Sinistra (whom he had also sent gifts too), and then Mayna (with the help and guidance of Euphemia, Fleamont, Felix, Alice and Mr. Figg) had filled in the rest of the thirteen days.

On the morning of Twenty-first December (the Winter Solstice), they lit the Yule Log and toasted the holiday and the coming year with mulled-cider, biscuits and a Queen Cake. They also lit fat, white and black candles that were charmed to burn through the thirteen days. That evening, there was a grand feast - though Harry and Mayna were the only two to partake of the food.

On the evening of Twenty-second December, they decorated the evergreen Yule tree with candles, coloured baubles, small statues of various gods and goddesses, strings of brightly coloured candy-floss and little sachets of laurel leaves.

The Twenty-third December passed quickly as Harry and Mayna -- with the advice of his grandparents, Felix, Alice and Mr. Figg -- decorated the house with wreaths, garlands, laurel leaves and enchanted paper snowflakes.

On the Twenty-fourth December, Harry fasted -- as was traditional -- and spent most of the day, and night, by the fireplace reading.

On the Twenty-fifth December, Felix, Alice and Mr. Figg went back to their respective homes, and Harry had a feast of foods he liked best -- of which Mayna shared with him. 

On the Twenty-sixth December, Mayna helped Harry brew a healing potion with a Mistletoe base. Afterwards, Mayna helped him create an altar on a low table near the front parlour fireplace where Harry placed the completed potion, bunches of mistletoe, candles, flowers and little statues.

On the Twenty-seventh December, Harry sat through a traditional paper-folding lesson with Mayna, and then Euphemia taught him how to enchant the paper. Afterwards, there was mulled-cider, bread and cheese, and then a lesson on Transfiguration with Fleamont.

On Twenty-eighth December, Harry went with Mayna to a Yuletide Play, hosted by the Hogsmeade Theatre. He was surprised to see Neville and his grandmother there, but too polite to say no to sitting with them. Mayna remained silent through the entire two-hour play and half-hour admission, so as to not accidentally call him Harry. Neville hugged him hard as they said goodbye and thanked him profusely for the gift Henry had sent.

Harry had sent the same gift, though different incarnations, to each of his friends. A charmed object they could wear on their person -- with slightly different charms for each. Harry had used a bit of transfiguration to charm a gold galleon into the shape of a very small tree, with individual tiny leaves, and a loop to put on a chain. He'd then cast a series of charms (protection, a light calming charm, etc.) for Neville on it, tucked it in a little box will a soft little pillow, wrapped it and sent it off.

Each night, of the thirteen days of Yule, Harry opened a gift and he and his family sang the appropriate chorus of Yule Days -- a song much similar to the muggle Twelve Days of Christmas. 

The gifts ranged from things he needed (new quills and ink, new dragon-hide gloves, a new cloak, a bloodstone) to things he might want, or would find interesting (a rare book on mediumship, a box of red-licorice wands, a flat and shiny scrying plate, a container of ginger tea).

Twenty-ninth and Thirtieth December were much the same; Harry spent long hours having lessons with Euphemia and Fleamont, having lunch and supper in the kitchen with Mayna, and then was tucked into bed early -- after signing the Yule Days song (with the appropriate verses).

On Thirty-first December, Harry got up early and had a long ritual bath and then a short, clean breakfast of fruit and yoghurt. He was then taken, by Mayna, to a traditional day-and-night long Bonfire in the very traditional Wizarding village of Modronacht -- which had been quite far away from Potters Bar, and had caused them to have to take a Portkey. Harry decided, after being dropped onto his face once he'd let go of the coin-portkey, that he did, indeed, dislike magickal travel.

First January was a day of rest before the final, thirteenth, day of Yule. Harry had long hours to eat, relax, sleep and make prayers to the gods, and then he was tucked into bed, again early, to be well rested for the final day.

Second January opened with a large breakfast, and then Mayna took him to a magickal orchard where they harvested apples and oranges. Back at home, they made bread and hung Holly from all the doors and windows. Then, Harry attended to the still-burning Yule log by dusting it with more flour, placed a few new leaves of cedar and evergreen on it and dousing it with mulled-cider. Afterwards, he carried stacks of ash-wood to all the other fireplaces in the house and then had a grand lunch. 

Later, Harry burned incense -- pine, cedar, bayberry, and cinnamon -- and baked a caraway, fruit, and nut cake.

As the sun dipped low in the sky, signalling the end of the day and the end of Yule, Harry doused all the candles in the house, and then lit, on a candelabra, one colour of each: red, green, white, black, and gold. He then retired to the parlour with the Yule log and scattered rosebuds and crushed cloves over the log to symbolize the end of Yule.  
***

The end of Yule, at sundown Second January, wasn't the end of the students holiday or the holiday celebrations. On Sixth January, Mayna took Harry to a large, open field and gave him an additional necklace to wear.

"It will protect you, young Master, and get you back home when it is time," she said before apparating away.

Harry tugged the necklace over his head and stepped forward. As the wards settled over him, the field was brought to life with music, wonderful food smells and crowds.

The Festival to Dionysus was underway. Harry went in search of his friends -- Theo and Neville; the two he knew would be in attendance.

*** ***  
**Seventh January**

Before heading out of the house to take the Knight Bus back to King's Cross, Mayna added a tiny, charmed unbreakable, stoppered bottle of Yule-log ash to the necklace he wore.

"To protect you better," Mayna said gently.

Harry leaned down and gave her a small hug, and then left for the Knight Bus.

*** *** ***

"Henry, it's beautiful!" Hermione squealed as she launched herself at him for a hug.

Henry hugged her and then stepped back. "I'd like to get into the compartment, please," he added with a smile.

Hermione grinned and yanked him into the room. She sat down on one of the benches and he sat across from her. "Neville and Theo aren't here yet?" Henry asked.

"Well, no, but...we're both early," Hermione said. She held up her hand. "I do want to know what spells are on this, Henry," she said as she pointed to the little ring on her pinky finger.

"Protection, mostly," Henry replied.

"It's beautiful," she said. And it was. The little pinky ring was a gold band with a bright, shiny emerald on top. It was a traditional Yule stone, which Henry thought Hermione would appreciate, and its colouring went well with her hair and eyes. It was charmed to protect her from things she may not notice or realize. It would zing at danger, and light up if she was about to do something which would cause her real pain or injury -- among other things.

"Did you get one for Theodore and Neville too?" Hermione asked.

Henry nodded. "A bit different, though. Neville's is a charmed tree." He didn't add what Theo's was, or that he'd sent Theo a second present -- for the last day of Yule.

"I'm anxious to get back to school -- to do work, and listen to lectures. The holiday homework was alright, wasn't it?" Hermione said.

"I found it rather easy, if that's what you mean," Henry added. He smiled and rose from his seat as Theo entered. He gave Theo a little bow, and Theo bowed at him in turn and then they both sat down.

Neville was the last to arrive in their compartment, and he looked harassed and disheveled.

"Couldn't quite get away from my gran, sorry," he said by way of explanation.

"The train hasn't left yet, Neville, I'm sure it's fine," Hermione said.

Henry rose and waited for Neville to bow at him; once done, he gave Neville a little bow. He then turned to look at Theo and Neville. "Merry meet," he said quietly.

Theo nodded, "Merry meet, Henry."

"Merry meet," Neville muttered as he sat down.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly," she whispered.

***************************

TBC


	8. February

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry celebrates Imbolc (Feb 1st) and then has his 4th-ever mentoring with Professor Sinistra.
> 
> OOC!Myrtle (a bit. Wasn't sure how to write her).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all my HP stories, Theodore Nott is a Mystic -- a Jewish witch. As is his father. In this story in particular, his father was never a Death Eater.

On First February, Henry and a number of other students from all the different Houses, as well as five professors, gathered on the lawn on the opposite stretch from the Gamekeeper's house and celebrated Imbolc.

Imbolc was a time of cleansing, growth and renewal and, as such, was celebrated with a large bonfire out on the grounds and with dancing, music and magic. Also known as Candlemass, Imbolg and Brid's Day, it was the celebration of the coming of Spring.

Around the bonfire, in a circle outside of the circle of students and professors, great bundles of yellow and white flowers had been placed around, as well as buckets of grain and angelica and myrrh. Wreaths of candles, in yellow, white and silver, were also among the flowers and herbs. 

In a big group, Henry gathered around the bonfire with a lit candle in one of his hands. His candle was white while Theo's was silver and Neville's was a pale yellow. Each member of the unofficial circle held one of those three colours of candle. When it was his turn, Henry danced around in a circle while holding his candle and then threw dried herbs (basil, benzoin, laurel and celandine) on the fire. When he was finished, it was Neville's turn, and then Theo and everyone else as they continued around in the circle.

After the bonfire was over, they supped, at a nearby table, on buttered bread, sweet corn and mulled-cider. For those students in Professor Zabini's Rites & Rituals class this was also the time to cleanse their ritual tools; afterwards, they had a circle of their own where they lit incense, scattered salt, thanked the goddess and delivered a chant. Henry watched closely, so that he might remember it for when he took the class next school year.

When the celebration was over Henry, and the rest of the students, was sent back to his dorm with a dream-pillow and instructions to put it either under his normal pillow or by his bed.

***

"It seems I missed a grand party," Hermione commented on Monday morning while they sat in their Magical Theory class and waited for Professor Lipwell to arrive.

"You could have come, Hermione. Everyone who wanted to celebrate Imbolc was welcome," Henry replied.

"My parents are Christians, Henry. You know that. I don't think they'd like me exploring a version of paganism," she replied.

Theo snorted in an ungentlemanly-like fashion.

Henry pinched him mildly on the arm.

"I apologize," Theo said. "The fact is, what purebloods and other witches and wizards practice is not a _version_ of paganism as you put it. It _is_ a pagan faith."

"I don't understand," Hermione responded.

"That is very clear," Theo said.

"What Theo means, Hermione," Henry said quickly. "Is that what we practice is the Old Religion -- it isn't a version of it. It is the oldest religion, it is rites and rituals, songs and activities passed down through generations and generations of wizards and witches. These things are very similar, and in some cases the same, as things Salazar Slytherin or Rowena Ravenclaw would have done on these days."

Hermione nodded. "Well, why aren't muggleborns allowed, then?"

Blaise, who had been sitting one row behind them, laughed. "Of course they are allowed, Granger," he said.

Hermione crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "I wasn't invited," she insisted.

"Granger, there were several muggleborns in attendance, some of whom are taking my mother's course and some who are not. You could have gone had you been prepared, known what was happening, or cared enough about the foundations of all magic to attend. Even your magic benefits from the old ways -- the old rites and rituals, that is," Blaise explained.

"Professor Zabini's class does look very interesting, but I'm not sure I want to invest in a religion," Hermione said.

"That is, of course, your choice," Blaise said disdainfully and then he turned his attention to the front of the room where Professor Lipwell had begun the lesson.

Theo shook his head at Hermione and then he too dismissed her in favour of the lesson.

Henry had a harder time not continuing their discussion -- he couldn't understand why Hermione didn't want to appreciate wizard and witch customs. He didn't understand her insistence upon it being a religion she needed to join, when, in fact, it was oftentimes just old practices and ways to honor magick -- not all witches and wizards that attended these events _were_ Pagan, or Wiccan, or a member of the Old Religion. And Theo was one very good example of that, though he'd not said anything.

***

Over the next few days, Hermione tried to get Henry to talk to her about the Old Religion and the things he'd been doing with it, but he just didn't know what to say. She was a smart witch, who often relied on what she read in books too much. He'd told her everything he was comfortable sharing with her, but she still hadn't been able to successfully explain why she wasn't interested in her magickal heritage.

Hermione was under the delusion, mostly from the books she read and her other friends, that all magick was the same and that being muggleborn made no real difference. Well, she was wrong. And Henry didn't really want to be the one to tell her that -- especially when he had no idea how to explain it in a way that she would accept.

***

Finally, near the end of February, Henry had his 4th-ever meeting with his Mentor.

Instead of meeting with her in her office or the Astronomy tower, like the last three, Henry met her in a corridor on the first floor.

Professor Sinistra smiled gently at Henry and then said, "Follow me." And Henry did.

He followed her to a bathroom that was clearly marked 'Witches,' and hesitated outside the door.

"Do not be alarmed, Mr. Peverell," Professor Sinistra said. "Come in and close the door behind you. I promise you, no one will bother us and you will not get into trouble."

Henry swallowed against the panicky feeling that had risen in his throat and did as she said.

Once in the room, his mentor grabbed him by the shoulders and faced him towards one of the stalls.

"This," she said behind him, "is Myrtle Warren's bathroom. Or Moaning Myrtle, as she is called by those who do not understand nor respect the otherlife."

 _Otherlife_ , Henry had discovered during his first lesson, was another term for the dead -- a more respectful term that was most often used by Ghost Seekers. It was used because most Ghost Seekers felt that ghosts, while not actually alive, weren't actually dead. Instead, they typically lived a life that was much more in line with being living. They were still in the world, and of the world, even if they no longer ate, drank, slept or certain other faculties of being a living creature.

"Alright," Henry replied. "And what...what are we doing here?"

"You have many gifts which have not been opened to you as of yet, and we are here today to explore one of them. Because you are new, and know so little about your gift, you will need the aid of someone who has passed through to the underworld in a more tragic way. Miss Warren was murdered, by what we cannot say, but it was a tragedy. Because of this, she clings to life in a more...unusual way," Professor Sinistra explained.

"Why do we need someone who passed tragically, and...couldn't we just use a House ghost?" Henry asked.

"We need someone who passed in a tragic way, because their otherlife magick will be stronger. We cannot use a House ghost, because they have been around for more than a century, and no longer fully recall living. Their magick, for this, is unstable. Miss Warren is a bit...eccentric, and...her passing has resulted in her being a bit..." Professor Sinistra trailed off.

"Insane, I think you mean!" Myrtle yelled as she swooped down upon them.

"Good evening, Miss Warren," Professor Sinistra said calmly. "I was trying to avoid the use of that word."

"It's okay, Professor!" Myrtle cried. She then looked Henry over. Up and down, up and down, her head went as she stared at him. "A yummy one, my, my, my" she added.

"Good evening, Warren," Henry said politely. "The Professor and I hope to have your help in my teaching, would that be alright?"

"As I was saying to young Henry, being that you passed into the underworld about fifty years ago, your magick is quite stable to aid him in crossing to the Underworld," Professor Sinistra explained.

"Oh, yes...." Myrtle said gleefully.

"Wait, what?" Henry said. "I'm...I'm crossing to....what?"

Professor Sinistra smiled. "As a Ghost Seeker, you have an innate and inherent ability to use the underworld to your advantage. You may cross through, and spend time there, without being a member of the otherlife," she explained.

Henry nodded.

"While you are there, you must be careful, but it will benefit you. It can be used as a means of magickal transportation, for example," Professor Sinistra said.

"So...how do I learn this part of my...gift?" Henry asked.

"Myrtle will help you, and so will I. For this first trip," Professor Sinistra answered.

"Okay, how do I do it?" Henry asked, and then he took a deep, calming breath.

"Three deeps breaths," Professor Sinistra began. "In through the nose, out through the mouth. In for seven seconds, out for seven seconds. Then, you will take my hand and I will tell you the next steps."

Henry struggled to relax his body and mind, but eventually he got there. Once done, he reached for Professor Sinistra's hand.

Together, they faced Myrtle.

"Myrtle, if you could be so kind as to hold still?" Professor Sinistra asked.

Myrtle nodded and floated down to the floor, where she stood absolutely still.

"Now, breathing a bit shallowly, focus on Myrtle," Professor Sinistra explained. "Focus on her shape, her transparency, her other-worldliness. Let the absolute living world fall away. Let it go gray and meaningless, and let Myrtle come to life in front of your eyes. This may take quite a while, but you must push through to the underworld and leave the actual living world behind."

As she spoke in a calm, soothing voice, Henry focused on Myrtle. In a deep meditation-like state, he let the living world become muted, gray and uninteresting as he focused on the minute details of the ghost in front of him.

"Myrtle," Professor Sinistra said softly. "The final push, if you please." Aurora knew she could have given it, the final push to the land of the dead, because she walked in the underworld nearly every day and had, at one point, considered it a lifelong love of hers. But, she didn't. Instead, she allowed Myrtle to do as Myrtle could, which also helped Henry establish his own way into the underworld.

The living world fell away. Suddenly, they were somewhere Henry didn't really recognize. Oh, it looked like the girl's bathroom on the first floor, but...unlike what he had expected, it had burst into colour and light.

"What?" Henry asked.

"Yes, it is much different than what we expect, isn't it?" Professor Sinistra said calmly.

"Do we have to stay here long, Professor?" Myrtle asked.

"You may leave, now, Myrtle. I will escort Mr. Peverell back to the living world," Professor Sinistra replied.

With a wink and a wail, Myrtle disappeared.

"So, she went back to the bathroom in our living reality?" Henry asked.

"Yes, indeed. If you focus, but do not interact, you'll be able to see her, standing in her toilet-stall. She'll seem....gray. Muted. Colourless in places, and....more two-dimensional than three." Professor Sinistra let go of Henry's hand, only to put her hands on his shoulders. She would need to keep him here, with her, in the underworld, while he searched for Myrtle. Searching too hard, or being too-focused on her, since she was in the physical world, would drop him out and back into reality.

Henry nodded and then concentrated on the toilet-stall. After a few moments, he could see Myrtle, and he gasped when she waved at him.

"She can see me?" he asked in awe.

"See you, speak to you, play tricks! Do whatever!" Myrtle yelled as she began to zoom around the bathroom.

"Yes. Come along, Henry," Professor Sinistra said as she led him out of the bathroom. "She will not follow us. She's been confining herself more and more to that bathroom over the last few years."

Instead of a dark corridor with aging tapestries and colourful, moving paintings, they stepped into a long corridor that was filled with light and music and colour. 

"Why is the underworld so vivid?" Henry asked.

"You see it that way now, as a tool to help you know the difference," Professor Sinistra said. "Because I am along on your journey, though I am using my magick to help keep us here for you to have time to learn, I too see it this vividly. However... if we were to drop into reality and then I were to take you back into the underworld, it would seem much more muted. You would see the students standing around or leaving classrooms, or whatnot, but you would not be able to interact with them. They might sense a presence -- some can -- but for the most part....those without the gift only have eyes, and ears, for the physical world around them."

"So, it won't always be this vivid, and eventually...I'll be in the underworld but be able to see the living world as I walk through," Henry summarized.

"Yes," Professor Sinistra replied. "You will be in the underworld, using it for travel or helping a ghost find its way, or whatnot, but the living world around you will continue to be viewable. It will not look fully solid. The underworld, when you are in it, will always look like the most solid thing, while the living world will resemble ghosts in its transparencies."

"Will I always need a ghost to get here?" he asked.

"No, of course not. Soon, you will be able to simply drop into the underworld at a thought, at a whim, within a moment," she replied.

"Can you do that?"

"Yes, of course. I have been a ghost seeker all my life, and had the benefit of having a family member be my mentor. And so, I was learning from a very young age. There were times when I escaped to the underworld simply because I liked it better. That, of course, I do not recommend," Professor Sinistra explained.

By this time, they had reached her office, which was just outside the entrance to the Astronomy tower.

"We'll go inside and then drop back into the actual, living world, Henry," she explained as she opened the door and stepped back. Her hands had left him long ago, and she was pleased that he had not noticed and had not even flickered in momentary physical-worldness.

As he sat in one of the chairs in front of her desk, she pulled the real, living world back to them and the underworld faded away again.

Henry blinked in the dimness of the physical world and then sighed. She turned on the lights with a flick of her wrist.

"So....I can interact with objects, like seats and doors and things, but not with people?" Henry asked.

"In the underworld, you can interact with anything that is not currently living," Professor Sinistra clarified.

"So, not...plants or animals?" Henry replied.

Professor Sinistra shook her head. "There are some plants that you will be able to interact with -- the dark ones, mainly. Some animals will also be able to interact with you, given time."

"Alright, so......what are the rules for using the underworld?" Henry asked.

Professor Sinistra smiled. "I'm glad you asked."

Henry took a muggle notebook and pen out of his bag and leaned forward. He'd charmed it to only be readable by himself, and so he knew it was safe to keep ghost seeker notes in it. He flipped to a fresh page.

"One. If ever you take someone, a living being, into the ghostly plane -- the underworld -- you may never let go of them. If you let go of a living being, who is not a ghost seeker, in the underworld, they will be lost -- perhaps forever," Professor Sinistra explained. "Two. You can travel at high speeds to different places while in the underworld, as such it is a great means of transportation. However, you must be grounded to do so. I will show you what herbs and gems you'll need to wear for the grounding. If you are not planning on high-speed travel, simply walk slowly, normally, as we did. Three. Never run ungrounded, in the underworld, unless your goal is to time-travel. I will explain in more detail later. Four. Never eat any food of the underworld, ever. If you bring food with you, from the living world, that is fine. Do not leave it in the underworld. Which brings us to five. Five. Unless you are purposefully hiding something in the underworld, never leave anything behind. Never take things from the underworld into the physical world."

"Is there more?" Henry asked.

Professor Sinistra nodded. "Yes, but...that should be enough for this lesson." She handed him a slim book. "Read that, it will explain in more detail. Make sure you return that one to me, it is a family heirloom."

Henry nodded.

"Do you have questions?" Professor Sinistra asked.

"Don't I always?" Henry asked.

Professor Sinistra laughed. "Well, then...begin."

Henry leaned back and flipped to a previous page. He crossed one leg over the other and then smiled up at his mentor. He still had homework to do, and so he could feel it was going to be a very long night.

*******************************

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One side note:  
> These bits were going to be in a chapter, but then...well...I decided there were more important things to write about, so:  
> Mayna takes money for Henry's gifts, schooling (tuition), food, clothing, etc. from an old House-Elf fund set up by the Peverell estate. It is not in any way depleted, because the line died out sooner than they thought it would, and there were less offspring than Ignotus Peverell had predicted.  
> So, yeah, she doesn't take from the Potter vaults, or the Peverell vaults that Harry (Henry) will inherit. In case anyone wanted to know.
> 
> Secondly, Mayna's parents (House-Elves Magnus and Ria) and her brother (Flaer) are all still alive, but the parents are retired (and live elsewhere) and Flaer serves a different family.
> 
> Finally, to account for the change in Mayna's speaking/language: She's been having lessons since Harry arrived. He's from the muggle world, you see, so the way she spoke to him was making him uncomfortable, and so she's been having lessons to sound more typical -- less like she's not a person, when she is. She isn't free, but Harry (and the ghosts) treat her more like a maid and a member of the family than a typical house-elf. (She gets two days off a month, and they love/appreciate her, for example).


	9. March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo notices Henry's scar.  
> Some details about Henry's friendships and flying.  
> The celebrations of Ostara.
> 
> *Harry's scar placement: for this story, and maybe all my others, the scar is on the left side of his forehead. Whether or not that's canon, that's what I'm going with.
> 
> ** Astoria Greengrass is Daphne's older sister. (As she is in most of my other HP fics as well).
> 
> *** Some dialogue lifted from the films and/or books.

"You're telling us you can... _time travel_?" Neville asked. His voice was wobbly and uncertain, but also bordering on excitement.

"Yes, using the Underworld," Henry replied.

"That just isn't possible," Hermione said as she gathered up her books from their table in the library. "I don't want to be late for our last flying lesson, so I'll see you there."

"I don't understand why she's so against the idea. She's accepted your ghost-seeker thing quite easily," Neville said quietly.

"It's probably her most-logical muggle thinking, honestly," Henry replied. "There are books, though few, about ghost seeking talents, but none of them explain how the gift works, exactly. Not unless you have one of the books my mentor loaned me. Which she doesn't, because they're not to be read by anyone who isn't a ghost seeker. I took an oath."

"Time travel is a foreign idea to many a wizard or witch, I imagine it is highly unbelievable to that of a muggleborn," Theo added. "They are so steeped into their logical arguments and such. They have no real concept of what magick can really do."

"They have no imagination, you mean," Blaise commented.

"Come on, Blaise," Henry defended. "They have imagination. I think...it's more like..time-travel is science fiction to most muggles, so it's not something any muggleborn would readily believe. Besides, I can't really do it. It isn't forbidden, exactly, but it's frowned upon without a really good reason. Terrible, horrible things have happened to wizards that messed with time."

Blaise snorted. "Magick is capable of far more than the muggle world, even if they have found ways to adapt, adjust and invent," he said dismissively. After a moment, he rose and left the library.

Henry sighed and tucked his long, dark hair behind his ears. Lately, he'd been leaving it down - not putting it back in a band.

"Were you aware you have a very pale scar on the left side of your forehead, Henry?" Theo asked.

Henry's eyes slid away from Theo's face as he nodded. "Old accident, and I didn't get it healed in time," he explained.

"Why have I not seen it before?" Theo asked as casually as he could manage. In fact, if he squinted the scar looked very much like a very faint, very thin, somewhat wonky bolt of lightning. He wondered, not for the first time, if Henry really was who he said he was.

"I don't know," Henry said dully. "Maybe you haven't spent that much time looking at my face?" In reality, Euphemia and Fleamont had discovered an old glamour spell that had made the scar pale, thin and slightly distorted to anyone who saw it. The new charm was permanent, until lifted by his grandparents, and meant that he no longer had to rely on muggle makeup. If Henry was disturbed by Theo's questions, he didn't show it.

Neville stood from the table. "We really should go. It's been a long day, classes were tough, and we still have to get through this last lesson with Madam Hooch," he said.

Henry rose from the table as well and he and Neville left the library. 

Theo followed closely behind, still thinking about Henry's scar. Was it possible that people in the Peverell line simply had similar scars? Of course. And, for that matter, he was not really all that certain what Harry Potter's scar looked like. If he thought about it, he was sure it was smack-dab in the middle of Potter's forehead, not off to the side like the marking on Henry's. And besides, Henry's scar was so faint. Curse scars could not easily be covered up. Theo shook his head. Best to leave it alone -- even if his suspicions were correct...did he really want to know?

***

Out on the bright, green grass behind the castle, the entire first year class were lined up beside their brooms.

"I know it's rather late in the day," Madam Hooch said. "But, this last flying lesson is important. We're here to make sure that everyone can safely mount a broom and fly it, again safely."

"Do you think you've finally got your broom to work, Henry?" Draco asked with a bit of a sneer.

Henry laughed. "Yes, Draco," he replied. It had taken hours of work and one consultation with Professor Sinistra to figure out his trouble with commanding the broom. Apparently, most ghost seekers had trouble flying -- trouble being off the ground. No one really knew why, it just was.

"Merlin, Peverell, you couldn't get a broom to work?" Ronald Weasley said before turning around and laughing with his small group of friends.

Henry glared, but didn't respond. Weasley, and his group, didn't like him and he was fine with that -- it didn't mean he needed to engage whenever they made fun of him or bullied him. Honestly, as long as they left Neville and Hermione alone he didn't care. He'd broken up their gang-ups on Neville enough times to know that he could take them, if he had to. He'd also stopped their harassment of Hermione by telling a few key members of Ravenclaw about it. Weasley and his gang were just a bunch of moronic, Gryffindor bullies.

"Enough chattering, you lot!" Madam Hooch cried. "Everyone, command your brooms with 'up' and let's get everyone in the air. No out-right flying, just everyone in the air on their brooms!"

The rest of the last flying lesson had gone well, with every first year student able to fly safely.

*** *** ***

On Nineteenth, Twentieth and Twenty-first March, the students had three days off for the celebration of Ostara.

It wasn't really enough time for many of the students to go home for the holiday, but several students did anyway. Draco Malfoy's parents picked him up from school on the evening of the Eighteenth. Sally-Anne Perks was walked into Hogsmeade (where she and her parents lived) by a Prefect that same night as well. A dozen or so other students also went home because they lived close-by, or had their parents come get them.

Henry, Neville, Theo and Blaise celebrated with the rest of the castle.

On the evening of Nineteenth March there was a grand feast in the Great Hall, with foods that were appropriate to the time of year. Platters of roasted squash, fried crocus blossoms, ground-acorn breads, and baskets of strawberries were the main fair for the feast; as well as buns (both hot-cross and normal), eggs (baked and boiled), and ham. 

After the feast, Henry, Neville, Theo and Blaise gathered in a circle to light violet and purple candles and burn patchouli incense -- all the while singing a song or chanting a blessing.

Hermione was upset by the lack of an Easter celebration or Easter holiday, as she had always had in her primary school, but was appeased by the Ostara Hunt and Egg Decorating that was held on Twentieth March -- the day of Ostara. Later that evening, a large bonfire was held and many students broke into various circles to celebrate the day.

Henry burned dried herbs - celandine, cinquefoil, jasmine, rue, tansy, and violets, danced, sang and took part in an overall garden-blessing across the Hogwarts grounds. He also joined in on the hunt -- which was much like a muggle easter-egg hunt, only the students used magic and riddles to hunt for candy, chocolate eggs, and small gifts.

While Henry didn't join in on the Egg Decorating, he did sit down with Sally-Anne Perks, Neville, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott, Pike Moon, Terry Boot and Daphne Greengrass (who hadn't left with her older sister to celebrate with their parents) to fold and decorate paper butterflies. After they were folded, painted up or decorated in other ways, they were then enchanted to fly about the castle.

Professor Zabini's class planted fresh crops of daffodils, lilies and iris while chanting and singing.

Many of the students wore green clothing, instead of their student robes, throughout the three days -- as was tradition.

On Twenty-first March, the students and professors had a day of rest and relaxation. Many students engaged in long ritual baths and naps; most students also finished homework and readied themselves for the resuming of classes the following day.

At the end of the holiday, Henry, Neville, Theo and Blaise gathered in a corridor outside the Slytherin common room.

"Merry meet," Henry began as he waved his wand in a circle, causing green sparks to fall in the air like rain.

"And merry meet," Theo added as he used his wand to carry the sparks toward Neville.

"Merry part," Neville said softly, and used his wand to push the sparks to Blaise.

Blaise bowed. "And merry meet again," he finished, and then he let the spell end with a shower of differently shaded green sparks.

Their celebration was complete.

They grinned at each other for a few moments, and then headed off to bed; Neville to Hufflepuff, and the rest turned and went into Slytherin.

*** *** ***

"It was a lovely celebration," Hermione said quietly as they sat in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

The room was gray and shrouded in shadows, which always caused Henry to feel in a foul mood. "What you participated in, yes," he said gruffly.

"You know I don't go in for all of that," Hermione said sourly.

"Could you two keep quiet?" Draco hissed from beside Henry. "Some of us are actually straining to hear Professor Quirrell's lecture."

"It's all nonsense anyway," Pansy said from behind them. "He's too frightened of his own shadow."

Henry chuckled.

"That's not a very kind thing to say. Maybe he's been through something terrible!" Hermione defended.

"Was I speaking to you, Granger?" Pansy said acidly.

Henry frowned. "It did sort of seem as though you were talking to us all."

"Be that as it may," Theo interrupted from where he was sitting next to Pansy. "I cannot hear over the two of you whispering, and I would very much like to learn something from this lesson."

Hermione turned back around to face the front of the room, but Henry could distinctly see her muttering to her table-partner -- and Mandy Brocklehurst whispered back in reply.

Henry stifled a laugh. These lessons were almost as boring as History of Magic with Professor Binns, but only almost. Professor Quirrell spent most of the lessons stuttering and sighing and swaying alarmingly at any loud noise. Henry would be surprised if he'd ever come across any dark creatures or dark spells to defend against.

Knowing he wouldn't learn anything for the next hour, and that it was their last class of the day, Henry put his head down on the desk. After casting a wandless, nonverbal silencing charm on himself, he closed his eyes. A short nap wouldn't hurt.

*** *** ***

Minerva McGonagall paced the Headmaster's office in circles instead of long strides.

"I think we need to let this go, Albus," she said.

"We cannot, Minerva," he replied. "Harry Potter is needed in this world. At our school. For the coming war."

"There's been no signs of a new war yet, Albus," Minerva argued. "And besides, he's just a boy."

"Yes, but he will not always be. He will become a young man, and he will have the power to defeat Voldemort."

Minerva flinched. "As far as we know, he hasn't risen yet," she said quietly.

"No, but you and I are very aware of what is hidden in this very school this minute. With the power of the stone, he could rise -- and quite soon. We need Harry Potter if we are to face him once more. You're certain that Mrs. Figg hasn't seen him?" Dumbledore asked.

Professor McGonagall shook her head sadly. "He didn't come home for the holidays, and as far as she's aware no owls have been sited on Privet Drive. He hasn't communicated with her either, and she's been feeling very sad about that. And guilty, too. She thinks she left him alone too soon -- that she should have gotten someone who could have gone with him into Diagon Alley," she explained.

Albus nodded. "There was nothing she could do -- nothing any further than what she'd already done for him. She kept us apprised of his development and when he got his letter. She helped him communicate with you," he said. He shook his head. "As a squib, there really wasn't anything else, Minerva."

Minerva nodded. "Those dreadful muggles, Albus. Wanting no more contact with us, not caring where their nephew is, I told you...I warned you. The worst sort of muggles imaginable."

"I know, Minerva. But...they were the only family he had," Albus said softly.

"Harumph!" Minerva exclaimed. "That certainly isn't true, now is it?"

"What are you saying?" Dumbledore asked.

"Harry Potter was also a descendant of the Peverell line, wasn't he?" Minerva said. "Couldn't he have been given to the Peverell estate, like young Henry was?"

Albus crossed his arms over his chest. "I am unsure if that would have worked. He needed so much protection, and still does."

"Well, in any case....as far as we know, he hasn't been seen. What do you want me to do?" Minerva said, neatly changing the subject. Thinking about all the other people who could have taken in little Harry, and raised him as their own, made her feel a kind of rage she had long since put aside.

"Keep an eye on the Dursley's over the summer. Harry certainly should have to go home for it, and once he does...we'll see about relocating him," Albus suggested.

Minerva nodded and then looked hard at Albus. "We'll see about it? If he does come back, shouldn't we just offer him safe-haven at Hogwarts?"

Albus nodded. "We'll try." He looked over at the clock on the wall. "You can go, Minerva. I have things yet to see to," he said.

Minerva spun on her heel and marched out the door.

************************

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hey, hey all my readers....  
> Does anyone have any questions about this fic they want answered?  
> I'm having a hard time coming up with plot points.  
> Leave any questions, that you'd like to see play out in the fic, in the comments. Thanks! :D


	10. April

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo continues to be suspicious.  
> Professor Snape lectures them on their coming exams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 has had a correction'/addition where Henry is asking questions in Sinistra's office -- just FYI.

"When is your birthday, Potter?" Theo asked.

Henry gritted his teeth and continued to hid his face behind the large book he was reading. He didn't reply. Theo had been trying to trip him up for the last week or so, and Henry knew he was going to have to have a talk with him.

"Seriously, Henry, when's your birthday?" Theo asked again.

This time, Henry shrugged. "It's at the end of this month," he replied.

Theo shrugged. He felt mildly sorry to be upsetting Henry, but he'd decided knowing the truth, in this case, would be best. Trying to trick Henry into admitting he was really Harry Potter was beginning to wear on their friendship, and he knew if it didn't pan out soon, he'd give up.

"When?" Theo pushed.

"April 30th," Henry responded dully.

"And your middle name?" Theo asked.

"Sergus," Henry replied before getting up and leaving their dorm-room for the Common Room. He knew Theo wouldn't follow him out -- they couldn't have a conversation about this in front of the rest of Slytherin house.

As Henry left, Blaise glared at Theo.

"Theodore," he said. "You cannot keep insisting he isn't himself. It is going to come between you. But worse, it is going to come between all of us. Henry is who he says he is. Let it go."

Theo sighed. "I know," he replied. "There is something off here, though. Can you not feel it?"

Blaise rolled his eyes. "No, I cannot feel it. I like Henry. So does Draco, Greg, Vince and Zach. It is highly unlikely we would like him if he were really Harry bloody Potter," he responded.

"He is rather liked, isn't he?" Theo said.

"You like him, Theodore. Stop being a tosser and just accept that there is nothing hinky going on," Zacharias said casually.

"I do like him, he is one of my best friends. I cannot get over the similarities, though," Theo insisted.

"Get over it, Theodore. Before you push him away entirely and he stops being your friend. He is my friend, and I do not like what you are doing to him," Blaise defended. "If you continue, he could petition the Headmaster for a re-sorting, or to switch out of our dorm room."

"I had not considered that," Theo said quietly.

"Merlin, who would we get?" Zach asked.

Blaise sat up a little straighter and folded his hands over his lap. "Morrison, Vincent or Greg, I would imagine. You know Draco's father would not let him move into a dorm-room with me in it," he replied.

"What is the Malfoys problem with you, exactly?" Zach asked. "You've never really explained."

"I have never explained, because I do not know. I imagine it has something to do with my mother," Blaise said.

Theo rose from his seat on their dorm-room sofa and left to go find Henry. He should apologize before things got too out of hand.

***

Henry relaxed in his favourite hiding spot in the Slytherin Common Room. It was an alcove that had a small, padded bench in it and couldn't be reached unless you slid along the side of the bookcase, dropped down into a semi-crawl and then pulled yourself into it with aid from the slim shelf above it.

He knew Theodore wouldn't find him here, and that's exactly what he wanted. He'd be able to see Theo, but Theo wouldn't be able to see him. He had to figure out what he was going to do. He wanted to keep his secrets, and keep being Henry Peverell. He liked Henry Peverell. And he wasn't really lying when he said it was his name -- it was. The spell had made it so that he was, in reality, both Harry Potter and Henry Peverell.

Henry scrubbed his hands over his face. What was he going to do?

***

Theo didn't get to see Henry until days later, because Henry managed to skillfully avoid him -- even in their dorm room and in classes.

"We need to talk about this, Henry," Theo said as he finally caught up to Henry outside, in the courtyard.

Henry slid his hands into his pockets and nodded. "Not here," he replied.

Henry led Theo into an abandoned second-floor classroom and then held out his hands.

Theo frowned at Henry's outstretched hands. "What?" he asked.

Henry laughed a little, and then explained. "We're going to go into the Underworld for this conversation. It's safe, much safer than here anyways."

Theo swallowed hard and then nodded. "Alright, I am not completely comfortable with that, but...I suppose my point is...regardless, I trust you Henry."

He'd decided days ago to tell Theo a version of the truth, but not the whole truth -- and his version wasn't even exactly true, but just enough true to, hopefully, convince Theo. Henry grabbed Theo's hands and, after some concentration, moved them into the underworld.

"Don't let go of me, no matter what. You can grab my wrist with one hand, or my shoulder, or even my bag...but you cannot let go of me. I...I don't have any idea what I'd do if you got lost in the underworld. I don't even know what would happen or...or if I could get you back," he explained.

Theo blanched, but then nodded. He let go of one of Henry's hands to grab Henry's bag instead, and then he moved his hand to Henry's wrist instead of the more intimate hand-holding they'd been doing. "Okay. Now, tell me what you want me to know," Theo said at last.

"What I am about to tell you can go no further than the two of us," Henry said as he cast a nonverbal, wandless privacy spell.

Theo nodded.

"Your word, Theo. Words have power, we know that," Henry insisted.

"I promise not to tell anyone else what you tell me here," Theo said.

"I am Henry Peverell," Henry stated. He looked away from Theo for a moment and took a deep breath. "But, I suppose it's fair to say...I was born Harry Potter."

Theo frowned, but didn't let go of Henry. "So, you are Harry Potter? The Boy Who Lived? Like I had suspected?" he asked in a rush.

Henry shook his head slowly. "No, and yes," he replied.

"Well, that is quite vague, Henry. Or should I call you Harry?" Theo said disapprovingly.

"You should never call me Harry. Never. I don't want anyone knowing that. Ever," Henry replied. "I am Henry Peverell. But, I was born Harry Potter. Is there not any way you could think of where that would be the truth besides my lying to you?"

Theo blinked. "You were adopted by the Peverells!" he exclaimed.

Henry nodded, but didn't verbally confirm. In actuality, it was very much like he'd been adopted by his grandparents -- only they were ghosts and actually related to him.

"But, you are their descendant and you do have guardians, is that correct?" Theo filled in.

Henry nodded again. Getting Theo to fill in the blanks for himself meant not having to do too much lying.

"But...you are the Boy Who Lived, and yet...you are also Henry?" Theo asked quietly.

"I suppose so," Henry replied. "But..." he trailed off. This is where he needed to lie, and he hated to do it but he desperately needed to protect himself as well. "I've never been the Boy Who Lived."

"What does that mean?" Theo questioned.

"I never knew I was the Boy Who Lived. I didn't grow up that way. I grew up as just me...no titles, no information. I had no idea about the Harry Potter story -- Lily and James, the Dark Lord, all of that, until I came to Hogwarts," Henry explained. This wasn't strictly true, but it was close enough.

"So...your guardians have always cared for you?" Theo asked.

Henry nearly smiled, but then decided better of it. "Yes," he replied -- 'cared for' and 'raised you' were not the same things, and so Henry felt just fine with this particular lie. His grandparents, and even Mayna, had always cared for him, regardless of if he was with them or not.

"So, your real secret, Henry, is that you are, essentially adopted and do not wish to be Harry Potter. Is that correct?" Theo asked.

"Yes," Henry replied. "Can we be okay now?"

Theo smiled gently. "You could have told me all along, Henry," he admonished. "You could have told everyone, really."

"I don't want to be Harry Potter to anyone. I'm not the Boy Who Lived, and never was. I don't want all that changing now," Henry explained.

Theo nodded. "Alright. Can we go back to the world of the living now? This is a little...well, it is cold and not...a friendly environment."

Henry thought it was odd how Theo went out of his way to avoid the word 'afraid,' but he relented. "Yeah, sure," Henry said as he let go of the Underworld and took them back into the physical world.

***

His relationship with Theo improved after that, and all his dorm-mates were glad of the change and the lack of animosity.

While Henry felt bad that he was still lying, he didn't feel bad enough to confess it all. He never wanted to be Harry Potter ever again -- especially since if he went back to that it would probably mean going back to his relatives, and he'd do almost anything to avoid that. They didn't love him; they didn't even like him. His grandparents and Mayna did -- and he was treated well at his new home, not like a badly treated house-elf.

*** *** ***

Nearing the end of April, Professor Snape gathered all the first-year Slytherins (Vincent Crabbe, Millicent Bulstrode, Daphne Greengrass, Gregory Goyle, Morag MacDougal, Morrison MacDougal, Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, Zacharias Smith, Blaise Zabini and Henry) in an unused classroom in the dungeons.

"This is not about Quidditch, the House Cup, House Points, or other behaviour," Professor Snape prefaced.

Henry shifted around in the desk chair he'd been sitting in. If it wasn't about anything like that, he wondered, what was it about?

"I am two seconds away from answering your very obvious question, Mr. Peverell," Professor Snape snapped.

Henry's eyes widened -- a little in awe, a little in fear.

Professor Snape folded his arms slowly, resting each hand on the forearm of the other arm. "It was written on your face," he explained.

Henry blinked, nodded and then said, "I apologize, sir."

Professor Snape nodded. "In one month, you will all sit your exams," he said. "These exams are much more important than you might be aware of. It is highly unlikely that failing them will set you back a year, but it has happened on occasion."

The majority of the students grimaced or shifted uncomfortably.

Professor Snape gave a tight, small smile. "Yes, indeed. If you do not pass your exams, it will be up to me and the Headmaster if you should repeat the year. Additionally, if you pass your exams with Exceeds Expectations or above, you will be eligible to take two of the second-year electives. If you are marked as Outstanding for all of your exams, you will be eligible to take all of the second-year electives on offer. I do encourage you to take two out of the three. I find that the Art class which is offered is fairly useless," he explained.

Since he had their rapt attention, he continued. "No matter what sort of marks you receive on your end-of-year exams, you must take one of the second-year electives offered. I recommend doing your research and deciding, ahead of time, which elective you will sign up for. On the desk behind me you will find three pamphlets. Each details one of the offered classes. If you receive Troll, Dreadful or Poor on any one exam, you will be asked to makeup that exam in the last week of school -- typically, after that days' scheduled exams -- but you will still need to choose an elective. If you receive these substandard and completely unsuitable marks on all your exams, I may, indeed, have you repeat the year. Do I make myself clear?"

There was a chorus of 'yes' from the first-years.

Professor Snape gazed around the room. "Are there any questions?" he asked finally.

When no one raised their hand and there was no whispering amongst the students, Professor Snape nodded.

"You are dismissed. Mr. Peverell, stay for a moment," he said.

As the rest of the students filed out, Henry stood up from the desk.

"It has come to my attention that you are spending additional time with Professor Sinistra. Are you overly interested in astronomy, Mr. Peverell?" Professor Snape asked.

Henry shook his head. "Professor Sinistra is tutoring me, giving me some extra time, is all, sir," he replied.

"Your grades are not low enough in her class for that. Out with the truth, Mr. Peverell," Professor Snape replied.

Henry shuffled his feet. "Professor Sinistra is simply giving me some additional tutoring, sir," he insisted.

"I will not be lied to, Mr. Peverell," Professor Snape said acidly. "I abhor it, and as a Slytherin, it is beneath you."

"Lying is beneath me, sir?" Henry asked.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "Being cunning, ambitious and sneaky does not need to contain lying, Mr. Peverell," he explained. "Simply misdirection."

Henry nodded. 

"Now, in this case, what is the truth? I will not ask you again, and should you feel the need to lie to me again, you will lose house points and serve detention," Professor Snape said.

"I cannot tell you the absolute truth, Professor. I've sworn an oath," Henry replied calmly. "All I can say is that Professor Sinistra is offering me some tutoring."

"In what subject?" Professor Snape asked.

Henry shook his head sadly.

"Follow me, Mr. Peverell," Professor Snape said as he turned and left the classroom.

Henry hurried to follow him.

***

In Professor Snape's office, he threw floo-powder into the fireplace and barked, "Aurora Sinistra, come through please!"

A few moments later, Professor Sinistra stepped into Professor Snape's office.

"What is it, Severus?" she asked informally.

Professor Snape pointed to Henry.

Professor Sinistra clasped her hands together in front of her. "Ah, yes. I assumed we would get to this soon, though I didn't think it'd be until next year," she said mildly.

"I'm sorry, Professor," Henry said quietly.

"It is quite alright, Henry," Professor Sinistra replied.

"Mr. Peverell claims he is under your tutelage for some reason -- a reason which he says he cannot share due to some oath or other," Professor Snape said.

"Yes," Professor Sinistra replied. "And in order to speak of this with you, I will have your word that you will tell no one and speak of it to no one. This includes the Headmaster, Severus."

Professor Snape sighed and then pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment. Then, with his hands back down at his sides, he nodded. "You've my word, Aurora," he said at last.

"Henry is gifted," she stated. "I am mentoring him in my...particular craft."

Professor Snape seemed taken aback for a moment and then he shook his head. "You are saying you are mentoring him in your ghost seeker abilities?" he asked.

Professor Sinistra nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Impossible," Professor Snape breathed.

"Quite possible, Severus. And now, if that is all, I do have some marking to finish," Professor Sinistra said. She looked over at Henry and winked.

Henry stifled a laugh.

"You may go, Mr. Peverell," Professor Snape said. "This secret is safe with me, Aurora has my word."

Henry didn't waste any time, he left immediately after a quick nod to his mentor.

***

Severus gave Aurora a significant glance. "I will not tell anyone, but we must make some excuse in Mr. Peverell's schedule. The Headmaster will notice this kind of anomaly unless we can explain it."

"I suppose I could start failing him in Astronomy," Professor Sinistra said. "But I'd really rather not."

Severus shook his head. "Aurora, there must be some other remedial studies he could say he was doing," he said.

"Henry has some trouble in Defense and Charms," she supplied. "Perhaps we could get Filius to say that Henry is with him two to three hours a week?"

"Filius would want to know why," Severus stated. He shook his hands at her after a moment. "No, no. We'll figure something out."

"The Headmaster cannot know about Henry's gift, Severus. You know why," Aurora said.

Severus nodded. "Ariana," he said dully. "Among other reasons."

Aurora simply nodded.

***************************

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (2 chapters left in Year One! -- not including this one --) :)
> 
>  
> 
> Do you have any questions about this story that you'd like to see play out in the story?  
> Please leave any questions, or plot points you want answered, in the comments!  
> Thanks!


	11. May

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beltane.  
> Henry and Theo talk about his birthday.  
> Professor Dumbledore schemes.
> 
>  
> 
> (Only 2 chapters left after this! -- I extended things a little)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have read that the English academic year actually runs from September to mid July. However, I need/would like our students to have a bit more time off, since at Hogwarts they have less Holiday-going-home time.  
> I got my information from: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_school_holidays, but to be perfectly honest, I'll be ignoring it in favour of giving our students a bit more time off over the summer.  
> As such, the school year will end in the third week of June, for our characters.

On First May, Henry, Theo, Neville, Blaise and several other students (and professors) participated in Beltane celebrations and activities.

Classes had ended early the previous day so that those that believed or participated could attend the Beltane Eve celebration. Otherwise known as May Day or Lady Day, Giamonios, Rudemass, and Walburga; Beltane celebrated nature, elemental magick, fertility, the house guardians, the woodlands, and divination.

As such, Professor Trelawney, whom most of the students rarely saw and some had never met, was the High Priestess for the Divination Circle. Henry decided not to participate in that, because his mentor had cautioned against it. Additionally, he'd been advised not to visit the Underworld on Beltane or, later in the year, on Walpurgis night due to the intense magick that could interfere with him coming back.

He wasn't sure how he felt about that for Walpurgis night, as he'd read that it was an intense time where one could visit with their dead family members, and since he already had the Ghost Seeker gift, he felt that Walpurgis night would be the best night to test that out, but he also understood that he did not know enough about his gift and wasn't that great at controlling it yet.

The previous night, Thirtieth April, had been Henry's twelfth birthday _and_ Beltane eve. But, since Harry had never celebrated his birthdays anyway, he hadn't felt comfortable celebrating when it wasn't _really_ the day he turned twelve.

That morning, Theo had handed him a small note, which read:

_Have you ever celebrated your proper birthday then?_

Henry had shaken his head and then burned the note. "That's dangerous," he commented to Theo. "Don't send me notes like that, someone might read and wonder."

Theo had nodded, but Henry didn't believe for one second that he wouldn't keep asking.

Euphemia and Fleamont had sent him a gift and a letter, with Mayna's help, but otherwise the day had passed quickly and without fanfare.

That night, they'd helped weave ribbons around the Maypole and then danced around it; they lit red and white candles, and joined in on singing and chanting about the coming of Beltane and had participated in blessings for those that needed or wanted them.

On First May, Henry gathered, with everyone else who was celebrating, out on the Hogwarts grounds and threw himself into the events.

There were baskets of herbs and flowers dotting every doorway and lining every staircase and small fires spread throughout the grounds for jumping (with rules posted as to how to jump and what not to do), and there was bright, happy music floating along the air.

Henry decorated eggs, danced around the Maypole, lit candles, burned herbs and incense, and participated in the butter-churning competition.

He jumped over multiple fires (all by himself, since if you jumped with someone you were not related to magick could sometimes interfere with particular, romantic consequences). He watched Daphne and her sister Astoria jump over a fire together, and the Weasley twins as well.

Henry had a nap in the shade, and drank cups and cups of punch and had a few cups of mulled-wine as well. He strung beads and flowers and gifted these garlands to his friends. He joined Theo, Blaise and Neville in the Hogwarts kitchens to bake bread -- and watched other groups of friends do so as well.

Later, he feasted, along with everyone else, on eggs (fried, boiled and baked); roasted, salted almonds; almond-meal cakes and cookies; salads of herbs (parsley, thyme and basil) and edible flowers (daylilies, angelica, lilacs, marigold, primrose, and sweet woodruff); there was also a selection of vegetables and cooked grains (quinoa and polenta, respectively).

That night, Henry fell asleep exhausted but pleased. It had been a wonderful day.

***

"So you have never celebrated in July?" Theo said vaguely.

Henry sighed. "No, I haven't. Let this go, Theodore," he said acidly. He was grateful it wasn't another lie. The fact was, he had never celebrated his birthday. He'd never gotten gifts, or special activities or had a party or anything. The Dursley's either hadn't known when he was born or they just hadn't cared. He thought the latter was more likely.

Theo shrugged. "I apologize. This intrigues me. Adoption is not common in the magickal world, Henry," he whispered.

"And that's what I mean right there! Please, stop talking about this. It's dangerous. It's dangerous that you even know!" Henry exclaimed before pushing away from the table.

Theo followed him into the corridor. "I had a silencing charm up," he defended.

Henry whirled around. "Do you want us to stop being friends? Is that was this is about?" he asked.

Theo shook his head. "No, of course not. You...you are my best friend, Henry."

"You're my best friend too, Theodore. But, you are very close to losing my friendship, if you keep pushing this. Not everything in my life is yours to know, Theodore. Not everything is a big conspiracy, or a secret, but also...not everything is stuff I want to talk about or even can talk about. These questions you seem to have are intrusive and they drag up things I would rather have left alone," Henry explained.

"I apologize, Henry," Theo said. "I was not aware any of it was such a sensitive subject for you."

Henry crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back. "Well, it is," he replied.

"Ooooo, having a fight with your boyfriend, Peverell?" Ron Weasley said as he came around the corner on his way to the Great Hall.

"Do you have to be everywhere I am and always making fun of me, Weasley?" Henry asked disgustedly.

"No, I suppose I don't," Ron replied. "I was just on my way in for lunch, but lately...well, you two always seem to be in the middle of a fight or something. Are you breaking up for good then?"

Henry rolled his eyes.

"The fact that you seem convinced this is somehow a romantic entanglement, or an argument about a romance, says much more about you and your mind, Weasley, than it does about us," Theo said.

"Shove off, Weasley," Henry replied tiredly. "Go stuff your face like usual and leave us alone."

Ron laughed and strolled away.

"Why does he dislike you so much?" Theo asked. "Is it just because you happen to be a Slytherin?"

Henry shook his head. "I don't know, but that's a question I'd like the answer to," he said.

"I did not realize I was hurting you, Henry. I do apologize," Theo pressed.

Henry nodded. "Your apology is accepted, but...really, just stop. Stop asking. That's not who I am, and I don't have any history as..." he trailed off and used a privacy spell before continuing. "I don't have any history as...the BWL...to tell you about anyway. So it's just...it's painful subject matter, and dangerous, and really...I don't have anything to tell you anyway. My birthday is April 30th. My name is Henry Sergus Peverell. Let's just leave it at that."

Theo nodded. "Alright," he said quietly. "I think I can do that." He sighed. "What happens if I cannot?"

"I don't know," Henry replied. "We'll stop being friends for sure."

Theo ducked his head. "I certainly do not want that to happen," he said adamantly.

"Good, then drop it," Henry replied as he cancelled the privacy charm.

As they turned and headed in the direction of the Slytherin dormitory, neither of them noticed Headmaster Dumbledore step out of the shadows.

***

"There is something different, something off, about that boy, Severus," Headmaster Dumbledore said as he sat behind his desk and pulled his fingers through his very long, very white beard.

"Mr. Peverell is nothing more than an ordinary student," Severus argued. "And I very much wish I was not brought up here so often to discuss him."

"He seemed to be having quite the argument with his best friend, Mr. Nott, earlier today," Albus commented.

"The petty bickering or odd rivalry, or even bizarre discussion between our students is absolutely none of my concern, Headmaster," Severus insisted. "Children will be children. And in so saying, they are often childish."

"And you have found out why he was having extra lessons with Aurora?" Albus asked.

"Yes, yes," Severus said impatiently. "That is all explained and worked out. Not a big deal, Headmaster, I assure you."

"And?" Albus said as he leaned forward slightly. "Why was he having extra lessons, Severus?"

Severus waved his hands in a dismissive gesture. "He was trying to figure out the connection Astronomy has to Astrology, and therefore to divination," he lied smoothly. "Aurora was simply aiding in his discoveries. She found his line of inquiry interesting, and wished to help him discover that they have a lack of connection."

"For what purpose?" Albus asked as he sat back.

"I have no idea," Severus said. "Aurora had a guess that it had something to do with his family line or his deceased parents. Really, this is absurd, Albus."

"What is absurd, Severus?" Albus asked patiently.

"Henry Peverell is no more interesting than any other student and your interest into his activities, lessons, homework and friendships is odd -- to say the least, Headmaster," Severus replied acidly.

Albus nodded. "Yes, I imagine it does seem odd to you. Are you not at all interested in him, then? He is, as far as we know, a Peverell. The Peverell line is somewhat of a mystery, but it cannot be mistaken that they had access to great magic," he said.

Severus sighed. "Are we finished talking about this, Headmaster? I have other things to do today."

"You haven't answered my question, Severus," Albus replied.

"No, I do not find him interesting. I do not find any of my students interesting, surely you are aware of that by now," Severus responded.

"You may go, Severus," came Albus's reply.

Severus swept out of the room as quickly as possible. He didn't understand why Albus was so interested in the Peverell boy, but he had to make sure that interest never stumbled onto the truth.

***

Albus tapped his fingers on the package that was wrapped neatly on his desk. He fully intended to send it, but wasn't sure when he should. What was inside it didn't belong to him, and its rightful owner might need it. But, he could continue to use it for his benefit.

The Headmaster sighed and leaned back in his chair. If he sent the package now, it was possible he'd suss out whether or not Mr. Peverell really was who he said he was. He knew there were ancient rituals that could fool the lineage spell, for example.

However, if it didn't work -- and his suspicions remained unconfirmed -- than all he would have accomplished is sending the item back to its owner and he would gain no more insight into it and no more use from it.

What to do?

**************************************

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you have any questions about this story that you'd like to see play out in the story?  
> Please leave any questions, or plot points you want answered, in the comments!  
> Thanks!
> 
> Small reminder about the tags:  
> Slytherin!Harry; Powerful!Harry; Smart!Harry.


	12. June

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry prepares for his exams.  
> He then sits his exams.
> 
> (First two weeks of June).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left to go! :)

The last week of May and the very first week of June were dedicated to revision and practice.

Henry was fairly confident that he would do well in all of the written exams, and the majority of the practical exams, but he had definite weak spots for Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

There were several courses that had very little to do with actual, practiced magic, and more to do with studying, memorization and book-learning. Henry knew these exams, which had no practical demonstration portion, would be a breeze. They included: Muggle Skills Course A (writing, literature, geography); Muggle Skills Course B (math, science, world government/politics); Muggle Skills Course C (computers, pop culture, art); Magical Theory; Astronomy; Wizard/Witch Culture; and History of Magic.

Henry was very good at all of these subjects, but also at Potions -- provided the potion didn't require a spell-casting (and they weren't far enough along in their schooling to do that kind yet anyway). He also didn't have too much trouble with Transfiguration, because it relied much more on visualization and the force of will rather than on the wand movements or the verbal casting.

Charms relied equally on verbal spell-casting and wand movements -- as such, Henry had a hard time getting any particular charm to turn out correctly when he was in class or using the class rules. Outside of class, casting charms was much easier as he simply relied on the force of his magic and his uncanny ability to cast non-verbally. Unfortunately, he knew that wouldn't work for the practical testing portion, and he feared he might outright fail.

It was nearly the same situation for Defense. Not only was learning from Professor Quirrell nearly impossible, but Defense magicks often required a spoken spell, and the wand movement was extremely important. There was only a small selection of Defense spells that relied more on will rather than words -- but they all managed to have mandatory, must-use wand movements.

Henry was very good, for example, at an entire group of protective shield spells, which needed powerful magick to support them, very quick wand movements, and the ability to create a shield without verbalizing which one you were using.

Beginning in the second week of June, he'd sit the written exams along with the rest of the first years. The written examinations took place in a large room on the fifth floor, which Henry hadn't realized was there.

According to Hermione, the room often served as a lecture hall and they would probably see more of it during this final week of school because there weren't classes, but the Headmaster liked to keep the students busy and/or engaged when not in exams.

On Monday, Tenth June, Henry, and his peers, sat the written exams for Muggle Skills Course (which was a combination exam from all three classes, and lasted three full hours) and Wizard/Witch Culture (a two-hour exam) before adjourning for lunch.

After lunch, they went back to the exam room and sat the exams for Magical Theory (one-hour), History of Magic (one-hour) and Transfiguration (two hours). When they were finished, they trudged off to dinner.

After dinner, Henry refused to continue studying and, instead, had a leisurely bath in the Slytherin Prefects bathroom (to which he'd gotten the password to from his mentor, oddly enough) and had then went to bed early.

Well rested for Tuesday, he'd had a light breakfast before heading once more to the exam room. Tuesday's written exams included Herbology (a two-hour exam) and Astronomy (a one-hour exam) before lunch.

When lunch was over, the first year students returned to the lecture hall to take the written examinations for Charms and then Potions, before they headed off to dinner.

This was the same schedule for the second-year students -- who sat in the lecture hall with the first year students to take their exams. The third and fourth year students were all together in the Great Hall for their written exams, while the fifth year students were holed up in the Duelling Chamber on the Second Floor to take their OWLs. The sixth year students had testing with their professors, in the professor's classroom; and the seventh year students had to travel, as a group, to (and from) The Ministry of Magic to sit their NEWTs.

On Wednesday, Twelfth June, they had one final written exam before beginning their practical exams. This exam, since it was Defense, was nearly four hours long.

Henry was very nervous about the Defense practical that would be coming on Friday, but he found the written to be not that difficult. He had studied hard, and it had paid off.

Sections in the front of the room had been corded off with ropes and curtains for the first and second years to do their practical exams. As more people finished their final written exam, more sections were created to accommodate more students.

After lunch, Henry took one of the practical exams.

He stood before a short wizard with wild bronze hair and a wand that looked too large for his arm. 

"Professor Peakes, Mr. Peverell. Pleased to meet you," Professor Peakes said.

Henry nodded and gave a little bow. "Likewise," he said gently.

"Right. Right," Professor Peakes replied. "I'll be administering all of your practical exams, Mr. Peverell."

Henry nodded again and waited for the Professor to instruct him.

"First up, we'll have Transfiguration; and then tomorrow there will be Charms and Herbology, does that sound alright, Mr. Peverell?" Professor Peakes asked.

"Yes, that's fine," Henry replied, though he doubted he had any say in it.

"Right. Then, on Friday, you'll have your Defense practical in the morning, and after a nice long lunch, you'll finish out the practical exams with Potions," Professor Peakes explained. "And then you'll be all done, and you'll receive your results via Owl Post over the summer holiday."

"Thank you, sir," Henry responded.

"Good, good. Now, let's begin!" Professor Peakes exclaimed before he began to take Henry through the exam.

Henry spent more than an hour transfiguring items into other items and animals into items (and back again) for Professor Peakes. He turned a match into a needle and back again; a hedgehog into a teacup and back again; a mouse into a snuffbox and back again; turned a button into a differently shaped, differently coloured button; and demonstrated how he might use the Transfiguration Alphabet and Formula to transfigure something unknown into something known -- before the exam was over.

Professor Peakes grinned broadly at him, and then gave him a little bow, before saying, "You may go, Mr. Peverell. Splendid! Well done! Do be here bright and early in the morning -- about nine, shall we say?" and then Henry was sent on his way.

***

"Your examiner made you do so many things," Hermione commented as they (Henry, Theo, Neville, Blaise and Hermione) sat around in the sunlight on a grassy knoll above the Black Lake.

"Didn't yours?" Henry asked quietly. Exams were over for the day and he was lulled into a sense of calm and peace by the sound of the water and the warmth of the sun.

"Not at all," Hermione complained as she rolled over onto her stomach. "I turned a match into a needle, and back again and then I did the formula bit, with an unknown object. That was all."

"Count yourself lucky, Hermione," Henry said. "I'm exhausted now, and he seemed like he wanted to see how far he could push."

"Yes, but why?" she whined. "You're just...you. Why not test us all that harshly?"

"It does sound a little odd," Neville said.

"Perhaps he understood the importance of your last name and wished to see if the rumours of a magnitude of power were true," Blaise said dismissively.

"Either way, it was weird," Henry said.

"Your Peverell last name can strike fear into the hearts of quite a few, Henry. Perhaps Blaise is correct, and Professor Peakes simply wanted to test the veracity of the power-claims that have cropped up throughout the centuries," Theo added.

"My Gran says that the Peverell's were revered before they died out, no offence, Henry," Neville murmured.

"None taken," Henry replied before getting up off the ground. "I'm tired, and it's been a long day. I'm going to go down to the kitchens for a snack and then head to bed. I recommend sleep, early sleep, for the lot of you as well."

Theo rose and then nodded in Henry's direction. "Come along, Blaise," he said. "Henry's right. We should all consider rest."

Blaise followed Henry and Theo, leaving Neville and Hermione laying in the sunlight alone.

"Do you think he's overly powerful or anything like that, Neville?" Hermione asked.

"Who, Henry?" Neville replied.

Hermione nodded.

"I think his power is different. Clearly. The Ghost Seeker abilities make him different. I think we're lucky that we have him as a friend. I really don't want to know how much harder my life would be here, at Hogwarts, without him," Neville responded.

"That's not really an answer, Neville," Hermione said softly.

Neville, loyal-to-a-fault, raised his chin and then stood. "I think it is," he said before he walked away.

Hermione sat by herself for a long while, contemplating it all.

*************************************

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled to remember all the classes, and so I hope I haven't left one out! :)
> 
>  
> 
> *"and demonstrated how he might use the Transfiguration Alphabet and Formula to transfigure something unknown into something known" -- in this case, something he was unfamiliar with, something they hadn't transfigured in class, into something else -- something familiar. This part is unspecified, because it could be anything.


	13. Going Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry prepares to head home for the summer holidays.

Soon enough, it was Saturday. Exams were finished; and all the students had left to do was pack up all their belongings, attend the leaving feast, and head back to King's Cross (Platform 9 3/4) via the Hogsmeade Train the following day.

The Leaving Feast was being held that night, and Henry was anxious for it to be over. He wanted to be home -- in his room, at his home, and with his family. 

They were just under a week away from Litha, the Summer Solstice or also referred to as the Midsummer Celebration, and Henry looked forward to being with Euphemia, Fleamont and Mayna to celebrate it. He knew Mayna had herb-gathering planned -- as summer herbs were at their most powerful if gathered during the solstice; there would also be a feast, dancing, singing, chanting, and a fairy circle. 

Henry looked forward to Midsummer, and all it would bring. They would decorate the house and gardens with green, gold and yellow ribbons; prepare bundles of mistletoe to hang around the house; burn herbs, eat dishes rich with tasty herbs and fruits; tie sprigs of rowan, rue, and St. John's Wort with red thread and hang them over the doors; craft protection amulets and charms; make a grapevine solar wheel; craft a witch's ladder with yarn; burn the old Yule wreaths; purify the house with vervain, rosemary, hyssop and sage; and study and draw different runes.

He couldn't wait to get home and begin.

***

"I still can't believe we missed your birthday, Henry!" Hermione exclaimed as she hugged him after the Leaving Feast. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Henry shrugged.

Theo made a disapproving sound in the back of his throat, and Henry laughed.

"We're going home, Theo, I think I can be allowed to shrug again," he said.

"Absolutely not. I will not have my hard work ruined by your summer holiday, Henry," Theo replied seriously.

Henry chuckled, shook his head and then turned to Hermione. "Birthdays aren't a big deal at my house, so...I don't really celebrate it," he explained.

Hermione frowned, but then waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. "Still, we would have had some kind of get-together or gifts or something for you," she said.

Henry rubbed his hands over his face. "I still have some packing to do, and we all leave in the morning. I'll see you on the train, right?" he said.

Hermione grinned and then nodded. "I'll seek you out. It'd be nice to have the long ride back all together," she said softly.

"When do we not ride the train together, Granger?" Blaise said with a slightly disgusted tone.

Theo poked Blaise sharply in the side with his elbow. "Blaise," he said sharply.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Well?" he asked.

"Never," Hermione replied. "We always share."

"Exactly," Neville confirmed. "So we'll all see each other on the train, and can now go off and do...whatever."

Theo laughed.

"Did you hear the rumour?" Pansy Parkinson said as she came up behind them.

Henry turned towards her. "What rumour?" he asked.

Pansy smiled gleefully. "Professor Quirrell had to be hauled off to the Mental Ward at St. Mungo's," she responded.

"No, really?" Neville asked in a near-whisper.

Pansy nodded and, instead of staying to tell the tale, she headed to talk to Daphne, Morag and Millicent.

"What do you suppose happened?" Theo asked.

Henry caught himself mid-shrug and then coughed to attempt to cover it up. "No idea, obviously," he said.

"I'll go find out," Hermione said before turning around and seeking out Professor McGonagall. She was gone for several minutes, and Henry, Theo, Blaise and Neville watched the animated conversation Professor McGonagall and Hermione were having.

"Apparently," Hermione said as she made her way back to them. "Ronald, Seamus and Dean attempted to stop Professor Quirrell from stealing something, and during the course of events, he -- Professor Quirrell that is -- went a bit barmy. The three boys are in the hospital wing until tomorrow morning, recovering from injuries received in the attempt to stop Professor Quirrell. That is all Professor McGonagall would say."

"What on earth was he trying to steal?" Neville asked with a quivering voice.

"Honestly, what wizards in their right mind would keep something valuable enough to steal in a castle full of students? Many of us are underage, and many, again, are incompetent. Of course someone would attempt to steal whatever it was," Theo said.

"Yes, only...this was not a student, Theodore," Blaise replied. "It was a trusted professor. I do not think this will be lived down by the school for some time. There are bound to be consequences to this."

"So...we'll have a new Defense teacher next school term?" Henry asked.

There were nods around the group.

"Great," Henry said. "I mean, I didn't learn much from Quirrell anyways."

"Professor Quirrell," Hermione corrected.

Henry shook his head, his eyes narrowed. "No, no way. He tried to steal something from the school and he was a crap teacher anyway," he argued.

"Henry is correct, he was an unfortunate instructor," Theo defended.

"So, if that's all..." Neville said quietly. "I have packing to do too."

Hermione nodded.

The group dispersed, with Henry, Theo and Blaise heading to the Slytherin Common Room.

"I suppose that is what the fuss was about this morning, at breakfast," Theo said.

"Yeah, I guess," Henry replied.

"Come along, we have things still to see to," Blaise said as they entered their dorm room.

***

At breakfast the next morning, the House Cup was awarded to Slytherin -- with Ravenclaw in second place, Hufflepuff in third and Gryffindor in fourth (last).

After breakfast, the students adjourned to their dorms to get their trunks and other luggage, before they were chaperoned into the carriages that would take them to the train platform near Hogsmeade.

Henry shared a carriage with Theo, Blaise, Draco and Millicent.

"It was the Philosopher's Stone," Draco said calmly. "The thing which Professor Quirrell tried to abscond with."

Millicent rolled her eyes. "Yes, Draco. We are all very aware of that," she said irritably.

Draco had regaled the first-year Slytherins with the tale that morning, at breakfast -- having received a letter about it from his father.

"My point, Millicent," Draco said smoothly. "Was that the stone was not stolen by Professor Quirrell, but it is, indeed, missing from the castle as of this morning."

Millicent crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Draco.

"Wait, what?" Henry asked. "It's missing again?"

Blaise nodded in confirmation. "It seems that although it was not safe from our Professor, it was also simply unsafe, in general. The Headmaster will not be able to walk this back, unless he gets the stone back. And, even then, it is unlikely," he said.

"I would not worry about it too much, Henry. It is likely that Nicolas Flamel has taken it back to his vault or one of many homes, that is all," Theo said.

Henry snorted. "Okay, well, clearly the Headmaster didn't know what he was doing, agreeing to keep it at the school," he said.

"Clearly," Draco agreed. "I swear, this school is going to the dogs."

"Let's not be melodramatic, Draco," Millicent added.

Theo laughed. "That is, perhaps, Draco's best quality, Millie!" he exclaimed.

They spent the rest of the ride to the train trading quips and jokes.

***

The train ride to King's Cross was long, but not at all boring. Henry sat in a compartment with Theo, Blaise, Neville and Hermione. Occasionally, Millicent or Draco would visit on their way to speak with other friends or simply on a walk through the train.

Henry was pleased when they arrived at platform 9 and 3/4, but he waited (as he had done before) with his trunk and his bag on a bench before leaving for home.

On the Knight Bus, he took a much needed nap while he awaited being dropped off.

***

Finally back at home, Henry was greeted by a big hug from Mayna and his grandparents' grins and well-wishes.

"You got a package a few days ago, young master," Mayna said as she handed him a large, brown-wrapped parcel. "It tried to go to you at the school, but...my tracking magick prevented that."

"Alright. Has it been tested?" Harry asked.

"Yes, young master. There was a tracking charm on the paper, but that has been removed. It was checked for hexes and other spells as well. It's fine now," Mayna replied.

Harry took the package from her and headed up to his room. He was still tired, even after his nap, and he suspected it had more to do with the very long exams than anything else.

He flopped down on his bed and used a quick paper-slicing charm to open the package. A velvety pool of silver slid out and onto the floor, along with a piece of parchment.

He read the note carefully, with a disgusted look on his face.

**_Dear Mr. Potter,_ **  
_This belongs to you, and was left in my care by your father, James Potter, before his death._  
_I am returning it to you in the hope that it will cement some goodwill between us._

Harry shook his head and made a huffing sound low in his throat. Any goodwill he might have felt was tarnished by the tracking spell which had been on the packaging. He continued to read.

_Use it well, it is, as may be unbelievable to you, one of the Deathly Hallows._

Harry gasped and clutched the necklace he wore under his shirt. He'd discovered, over the course of the year, that the little stone in his locket was none other than the Resurrection Stone -- one of the three Deathly Hallows. Was it possible that he now owned two of them?

He returned his attention to the letter.

_I had hoped to become acquainted with you when you became a student at Hogwarts._  
_However, it seems as though you have gone off to school someplace else, which is, of course, well within your rights._  
_As such, it only just occurred to me to send this to you now, as it belongs to you._  
_I do hope you'll consider joining us at Hogwarts for the rest of your academic career -- you'd be quite welcome._  
_Please consider this letter an offer of admission, though late, to our esteemed school ~ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._  
_Sincerely,_  
**_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_ **  
_Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot,_  
_Order of Merlin [First Class], Master of Alchemy, Grand Sorcerer, Defeater of Gellert Grindelwald, and Former Transfiguration Professor._

Harry gave a sardonic laugh at the long list of titles following the Headmaster's name and then folded the letter up and put it in his desk drawer.

He stared at the cloak for a long time. Then, deciding it was better to not be tempted, he put the cloak away in his wardrobe and then unpacked his trunk and messenger bag.

***

The next day, there were visitors to the house which caused Harry to have to stay out of sight, tucked away in his bedroom and away from the windows.

Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel were under the impression that Mayna was the only living creature/person on the property and had come for the distinct and particular purpose of speaking with Euphemia and Fleamont.

Harry wondered, the entire hour he was confined to his room, what they wanted -- but he didn't venture out of his room to find out. The secrecy of his living there, and who he really was, was a vital component to his life. No one could ever find out that Harry Potter lived at Peverell Cottage with his ghost grandparents and a plucky house-elf. He'd be taken into the custody of the Ministry, or sent back to the Dursleys, at once.

After their guests had left, Harry came downstairs.

Euphemia was pacing back and forth in front of their front parlour fireplace -- floating inches above the ground. Fleamont was nowhere to be seen, but Harry assumed he'd come back from wherever soon.

Mayna looked up as Harry entered the room and waved at Euphemia.

Euphemia took a huge, deep, unneeded breath and then sighed. "Harry," she said softly. 

Harry nodded and took a seat on the sofa. "What's going on, grandmother?" he asked.

"Nicolas and Perenelle were...are...old friends of the family," she explained. "As such, they are aware of how secure our homes are -- only open to particular descendants of the Peverell line, or those with express permission."

"Okay...so...why were they here?" Harry asked anxiously.

Fleamont popped into the room in a burst of purple light. "Sorry about that," he said. "Bit of a hinky mess up with the wards at Breakenridge Manor."

Harry frowned. "On what?" he asked.

"Breakenridge Manor is one of the estate homes that you will inherit at the age of seventeen," Fleamont said. "For now, it is one of the most protected places in Great Britain."

"Alright. What's going on?" Harry asked.

"We, well, I should say, the Peverelle Estate, and so, therefore, you...are now the owners of the Philosopher's Stone," Euphemia announced.

"I....what? I'm what?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Are the rightful owner of the Philosopher's Stone," Fleamont said with glee lilting his voice.

"Nicolas and Perenelle have given it to the estate, and, in so doing...to Harry Potter. They have enough elixir left to set their affairs in order, and live for a few more years, but...Nicolas did not wish to destroy it, as magickally powerful of a tool as it is, and felt that Harry Potter, you, might need it at some future date," Euphemia explained.

"Why would I need it?" Harry asked.

"The Dark Lord will rise again some day, Harry," Fleamont said. "You must have whatever tools at hand to help to defeat him, when he does."

"But...why? I mean, couldn't he get it and use it?" Harry said confusedly.

"If it ever comes to a point where it seems that he might be able to get to it, it will be destroyed," Euphemia said, ignoring the first part of Harry's question.

"Why not just destroy it then?" Harry asked. "It sounds dangerous."

"That will be up to you, when you come of age, Harry," Fleamont replied.

Harry sighed, and then nodded. He life was never just normal, after all.

********************************

END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! Our year one story for Henry (ahem, Harry Potter and the Ghost Seeker).  
> Hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> If you have any questions, please leave a comment.  
> If there was anything plot-wise that you feel wasn't addressed, please leave a comment.  
> (It could result in an epilogue!)


End file.
